I'm With You
by Bludge
Summary: She stared in the mirror at the old, unfamiliar face staring back.... To remind her that even though they had blessed her with their looks, they had cursed her with their lies....." Chapter 18 is up! Please R
1. A Damp Cold Night

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Do review.  
  
A/N: Hi. I hope you've all had a good Christmas. I'll be updating 'The Truth About Lies' soon and also, hopefully, 'Devils and Angels'. This has nothing to do with any of my other f/fs. I hope you like it. It was inspired by Avril Lavigne's song 'I'm With You'. R&R and enjoy. - Bex  
  
  
  
A figure stood by the side of the road, a silhouette against the black sky. Mystery surrounded her like the dark night. Her long brown hair, wet and mattered by the rain, clung to her face. She wrapped her coat tighter around her body, though it would make no difference, for the rain had already seeped through it. She was drenched from head to toe. She placed one hand protectively on her stomach and stuck the other one out, as she tried to hitch a ride.  
  
But the cars didn't stop. They carried on, not caring for a second whether she would freeze to death or not. She wasn't their problem. They zoomed by, kicking up clouds of water as they pasted her. She swore. And then tried again.  
  
Finally a car slowed down. It was blue, nothing fancy, but not bad. The window on the passenger side wound down. The diver was a woman in her late 30's. She had dark hair, which was pinned up and ice blue eyes. She studied the hiker with worried filled eyes.  
  
"Where are you headed?" She asked.  
  
"Where are you going?" The hiker asked back.  
  
"The Canadian border." She replied.  
  
"Well then, that's where I'm heading."  
  
Canada. Miles away from home, miles away from her life, miles away from anyone who knew her, miles away from the danger, miles away into freedom.  
  
"I guess you better get in. You can dump your bag in the back." The diver told her.  
  
The hiker did what she was told. She slumped her soaked bag on the back seat, then opened the passenger door and slid in next to the diver. She fastened her seatbelt and stared out of the window at the rain.  
  
The diver watched the hiker thoughtfully. The silence mad her fell awkward. She decided that she'd better make small talk.  
  
"My name's Emma. Emma Frost."  
  
The hiker didn't seem to respond. She seemed lost completely in her own thoughts.  
  
"Cas. Cas Waters." The hiker replied after a moment, in a monotone voice.  
  
Emma stared at Cas for a moment. Even though her voice seemed to be telling the truth, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was lying. It was the way that she said 'Cas Waters'. It was almost as if the name was alien to her.  
  
"So Cas, why are you heading to Canada?"  
  
"Because it's not home." She replied simply, never looking once away from the window.  
  
She turned away from the window. She felt bad about making Emma feel awkward, because at least she was making an effort. But Cas was scared about telling her too much. The truth was too dangerous.  
  
"So..." Cas paused, "Why are you going to Canada?"  
  
"Because it's home." She smiled at Cas, "What do you parents think about all of this?" She gestured to the open road.  
  
"They don't. My mum died when I was young. My dad kept his distance from me, too absorb in his work."  
  
The awkward silence settled back down. Cas had gone back to staring out of the window. She absent-mindedly stroked her stomach. She was glad that her coat hid what lay beneath it.  
  
"Well, the Canadian border is two days away. I was planning to stay at a couple of motels along the way.." Emma began.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll sleep in the car." Cas cut her off.  
  
"And give you a chance to hot wire it? I think not." She laughed, "Double rooms don't cost that much, I'll pay, don't worry."  
  
Cas was shocked at how nice this stranger was being to her. She made a deal with herself, that from now on, she'd make more of an effort. She shivered. Emma noticed and turned up the heater.  
  
"There you go." Emma offered.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem. If you're hungry, there are some donuts in the glove compartment. Can you grab me one, cos I'm starving."  
  
Cas opened the glove compartment and got a donut out for herself and Emma. Did she imagine it, or was there a hint of a Russian accent mixed in with Emma's Canadian one. Cas decided to make nothing of it.  
  
"So, it's still along way to the first motel. Do you know any good car games?" Emma asked.  
  
"Yeah. There's this one I know which is ex. We start with a word, like house. Then the other person has to say a word, which goes with it, like green. Green house. Then the other person has to add a word to the new word, which in this case is green. But you can't say the same word twice, because then you're out. Also you're out if you can't think of anything."  
  
"Ok. I think I've got it. I'll start. Um... Bulb."  
  
"Light."  
  
"House."  
  
"Green."  
  
The game brought memories flooding back into Cas' mind. She remembered when she was younger, sitting in the back of the car, playing this game with her mum and dad. She remembered her parents smiling and looking so proud at her, as she thought of a word. When they were all happy. This memory felt like a dream. This memory was a lot different from the torn shreds her family now lay in. She felt her eyes moisten.  
  
"Mill." Emma then saw Cas' unhappy face, "Are you ok?"  
  
"I'm fine." She lied, "My eyes are just watering, cos they're not used to the heat. I'll be fine."  
  
She was a good liar. Why shouldn't she be? Her parents were two of the best liars in the world, she guess that it was only natural that she was too. Turning into her parents. This thought made her shudder. That was something she promised that she would never happen to her. But it was happening already. She was running from the truth, wasn't she? Leaving everyone she cared about. Living a lie.  
  
Emma didn't seem reassured by her answers, but she didn't say anything about it. Instead she handed her a tissue. Cas smiled gratefully. They spent the rest of the journey making light conversation. Cas was glad Emma didn't ask any more questions about her past.  
  
"We're here." Emma announced, pulling in at a fading sign, which read 'Highway Motel'.  
  
They got out and carried their bags inside. Cas stared at the run down motel, as Emma pressed the bell on the desk. A couple of moments later, an old and bulky man appeared.  
  
"Evening ladies." He greeted, "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Can we have a room with two beds for a night?" Emma asked.  
  
"Sure." The guy handed her a key, "Room 47." Cas felt her blood run cold. Number 47 was her least favourite number. It was responsible for so much what went wrong in her life. They walked up the stairs and into the room. It wasn't too bad. Emma took the bed by the window. Cas looked through her bag to find everything was drenched.  
  
"Here." Emma said handing her a large, baggy t-shirt, "It belong to my ex. I kinda stole it."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
They got changed and slid into their beds. For the first time after Cas had left home, she didn't feel so alone. So scared. She rubbed her stomach gently. She still had no idea what she was going to do. But one thing was for sure she had to keep running. At least for a while she would be running with a friend.  
  
"Night Emma."  
  
"Night Cas."  
  
The light was turned off, allowing the black to flood the room. Cas closed her eyes and drifted into restless, dreamless sleep.  
  
  
  
A/N: So what do you think? Do you want to find out more? Do you want to know who hiding the secrets and if Cas and Emma are who you think they are? Please review it'll inspire me to write quicker. 


	2. The Old, Unfamiliar Face

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't Sue. Do review.  
  
A/N: Hi again. Thank you all who had reviewed; LindsayBobV, Lanabana, Geebagoey, Jen, Gabs, star angel, Dreamer and any anonymous reviewers. You guys rule. Please keep the reviews coming in. If you do, it'll help me to write faster. Deal? Well I'm not going to reveal who's who yet, you'll just have to keep reading and guessing. R&R and enjoy! - Bex  
  
  
  
Heat. It was the first thing she felt. Intense heat, the kind that makes your blood boil. Then she saw them. The flames. They danced around her, teasing, inching forward. She screamed. She screamed till she thought that her lungs would burst.  
  
'Got to get out of here. Got to get out of here, got to get out of here, got to get out of here, go to get....'  
  
There were more screams now. They were orders for her to run. Orders to get her out of there. They came from the other side of the fire. She wanted to save those screams. She edged forward, but the wall of fire blocked her off. The flames rose up, like a tidal wave, then fell upon her, drowning her small body...  
  
*****  
  
Cas woke up with a start. Cold sweat dripped off her face. Her skin still tingled from the heat.  
  
'But there wasn't any.' She told herself, 'It was a dream. You're safe.'  
  
She looked at her surroundings. She was in the same motel room. The same worn bed. The same new friend, sound asleep, in the bed across the room. Emma shifted slightly in her sleep, but didn't stir. Cas looked at the clock. 7.00am. She knew that she couldn't go back to sleep. She knew that she wouldn't be able to bear another confutation with the flames that haunted her dreams. Instead she forced herself out of bed and into the grotty, little on suit bathroom.  
  
The hot water from the shower ran down her body. She shivered despite the heat. The fake prickly heat still crawled over her skin. Fire. She hated it. She turned down the heat, so cool water now ran out of the showerhead. Cool and soothing. Cool and safe. She looked at her swollen stomach. She wouldn't be able to hide it for much longer.  
  
She got out of the shower. She tied her wet hair up into two bunches. It made her youthful face look even younger. She stared in the mirror at the old, unfamiliar face staring back. She looked so much like her. Almost a perfect reflection. Except for the eyes. She had his eyes. They shined back at her; remind her of the life she'd been handed. What she was running from. To remind her that even though they had blessed her with their looks, they had cursed her with their lies.  
  
She managed to find some dry clothes and pulled them on. She watched Emma as she began to stir and yawned.  
  
"Morning. What time is it?" Emma asked.  
  
"7.30. You're not late getting up."  
  
"Yeah I am. You know what they say 'The early bird catches the worm'. Just give me a couple of minuets and we'll go get some breakfast."  
  
"Sure."  
  
A few moments later they were sitting at a table inside the motel café. Cas now had a better look at Emma in the natural light. She had very dark hair and skin to match. The strange thing about her was her eyes. They were a brilliant ice blue. Emma noticed her staring and looked up from her menu.  
  
"What?" She asked.  
  
"Nothing." Cas blushed, "It's just your eyes. You don't usually see blue eyes with dark skin." Then she noticed the truth, "But they are contacts, aren't they?"  
  
"Well aren't you an observant one."  
  
"Why are you hiding your natural colour?"  
  
"We all have something to hide Miss Waters." Emma laughed, "I just thought that they made me stand out, you know, look unique."  
  
"They do. They're really pretty."  
  
"You've got nice eyes too. They are such a gorgeous.."  
  
"So what are you having?" Cas cut her off.  
  
"I was thinking about the full English breakfast. I'm starving. You?"  
  
"Just the boiled egg." Cas felt guilty about Emma paying, so she chose the cheapest thing.  
  
"That's hardly anything. You should have something bigger, seeing as you are eating for two."  
  
Cas' head snapped up at these words. She stared at Emma in shock.  
  
"I noticed." Emma informed her indicating to her stomach, "How far along are you?"  
  
"Three months and a bit."  
  
"What about the father?"  
  
Cas shook her head and looked away. She felt a serge of pain travelling through her heart. Of all the things had to leave behind, he was the hardest. He didn't even know that she was pregnant. She left for his own good. She only hoped that she left before anything could happen to him. She didn't even know if he was still alive. She knew that he would have come with him if she'd asked, but she didn't want to admit the truth. What this baby meant.  
  
Luckily the waitress came over, breaking the awkward silence. She had a pot of coffee in one hand.  
  
"Coffee?" She offered.  
  
"That would be great." Emma replied whilst Cas shock her head.  
  
The waitress poured some coffee into Emma's mug, placed the pot down and took out her notepad and pen.  
  
"So what can I get you?"  
  
"Two full English breakfast, please." Emma ordered.  
  
The waitress left and Emma took a sip of her coffee. Cas noticed that she had something tattooed on her hand. It was two opened ended triangles with a circle in the middle. It looked like this: o  
  
"What does that mean?" Cas asked, pointing at Emma's hand.  
  
"What this? I got this with a boyfriend, totally hammered at the time. I think it's meant to bring good luck or something."  
  
Cas didn't seem too reassured. She was sure that she'd seen it before. Emma smiled at her and Cas felt more at ease. Sitting across from her was the kindest stranger she'd ever met. Not a threat. Just a friend.  
  
Half an hour later, they were packing the car back up. Cas realised that she had left her brush in the room. She hurried back inside and found it pretty quickly. She came back out just in time to see a guy trying to steal Emma's handbag. Without thinking what she was doing, Cas ran over and kicked the youth in the stomach. He went flying onto the floor, stared at her in shock for a spilt second, before legging it out of there.  
  
"Wow! Buffy eat you heart out." Emma breathed in surprise.  
  
"That's me, Cas the Creep Slayer." She quipped, dryly.  
  
"Where did you learn to do that?"  
  
"I did kick boxing when I was younger." Cas said slowly.  
  
Emma started laughing. Cas glared at her.  
  
"Sorry." Emma apologise, "I took self defence classes and it seems that they did nothing to help me defend my bag." She smile at Cas, "I keep on getting gladder and gladder that I let you hitch a ride."  
  
Cas returned the smile.  
  
*****  
  
After three hours on the road, they stopped at a gas station for a break. Emma said that she needed to ring her brother, so went off in search of a phone. Cas felt defenceless being left by herself. She stared at the people, looking to see if she recognised anyone. She didn't. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. She went into the ladies' toilet. She filled the basin with cold water and splashed her face with it.  
  
"I know who you are and what you are running from." A voice said behind her.  
  
This voice made a chill run up her spine. She slowly looked up, water dripping down her face, all her senses on full alert. Behind her was a man, in his late 40's, bald, wearing a suit. She turned to face him.  
  
"I don't know what you are talking about?" She lied and tried to walk pass him.  
  
He stopped her and forced her to look him the eyes.  
  
"I think that you're lying. It's ok. I'm CIA, one of the good guys. I want to help you. In order to do that, I need you to come with me. We were really worried about you. Your father was...."  
  
But Cas cut him off.  
  
"If you want to help, you can tell him that my father died, when my mother did." She snapped, her voice dripping with rage, "Now get out of my way or I'll make you."  
  
She tried to pass him again, but he unwisely grabbed her arm. She punched him square in his face, all of her rage and force behind her fist. He slipped on the floor and cracked his head against the basin. She let out a small gasp and stared at him. What she had been turned into. What she'd become. She rushed into a cubicle and grabbed some toilet roll. She knelt down beside him and checked his pulse. He was alive, but was losing blood fast.  
  
"Sorry." She whispered, not sure if he could hear her, "I'm so sorry."  
  
She rapped some of the toilet roll tightly around the wound. It would stop the bleeding for now. She then rushed outside to the nearest phone and dialled 911. They would be there soon. He would be ok. She wasn't sure if she would be though.  
  
She walked back to the car in a daze. She hated herself. She hated her life. She hated what she had done. She hated her parents for giving her this life. Emma was waiting for her by the car.  
  
"There you are. I was beginning to worry where you had gone. I've talked to my brother and he's booked a motel for us. Should be better then the last..." Cas' look cut her off, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." Cas lied, "I'm fine."  
  
She was getting better at lying. Practice makes perfect. She would already beginning to fool herself. Apart her didn't know what was true or not anymore. A part of her didn't care anymore.  
  
A/N: What do you think? Any more ideas about who's who? Have you changed your mind? Feedback would be ex. Write a review or feel free to e-mail me. Hit that review button NOW! Lol! Bye for now. 


	3. Getting To Know You

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review  
  
A/N: Hey. Once again loads of thanks to all who have reviewed; Sk8er Chick, tennischickGGEA, Colly E, Brynne, Gabs, Secret Agent Girl, lanabana, Purple Panda, bluebabe19, Dreamer, Dream Writer 4 Life. Thank you very much. I'm a review addict. This chapter doesn't have anything major in it, just a few more clues and helps you to understand the characters a bit better. But read any way. Maybe you'll guess who they are. Maybe not. R&R and enjoy - Bex  
  
As much as Cas had promised herself that she won't, she had drifted back into her own little world. Completely absorbed in her own thoughts. So her father and the CIA were trying to find her. If it wasn't for her baby, she doubted that they would be bothering. She prayed silently that the guy she'd punched would be ok. But what was the point in praying? She didn't believe in god. She didn't believe in fate or destiny. Other people believed in those things though. And they were the people who were after her. But she would be in Canada soon, only about a day longer to go, and there she would be safe. There they wouldn't be able to find her or her baby.  
  
"....I mean it has to be one of the best films in history. What do you think?" Emma voice interrupted her thoughts.  
  
"Uhuh." Cas replied absent-mindedly.  
  
"Cas? Have you been listening?"  
  
"Um, no." She confessed, sheepishly.  
  
"Are you ok?" Emma asked for about the tenth time.  
  
"I'm ok. I was just.. just thinking that all." She then looked at Emma, "Do you believe in fate?"  
  
"Come again?'  
  
"You know that everything happens for a reason. Like you were meant to pick me up. Do you think that's true?"  
  
"I have no idea. Where did this all come from?"  
  
"I was just thinking that's all. I was thinking about things like what would have happened if I hadn't left home. Would my life be really different? Would your life have taken a different course?"  
  
"Well I wouldn't have my handbag now if that's what you mean." Emma joked, "You shouldn't think about things that can't be answered. Some things are best left that way. No one knows everything and many people have wasted their lives trying to understand everything. Now I'm not religious, but I think that if there is a god or higher power, then they would know. As for us, I think that we should carry on with the plot and forget about it. What's done is done, there is no point dwelling on the what ifs."  
  
Emma paused, and then took her eyes off the road for a second.  
  
"But you know I'm glad that I met you, Cas. Really I am. I would have been bored to death with out you. Plus I would have been successfully mugged, so I thank you for saving me again. You know what they say 'no one wants to be alone'. Thanks Cas, thanks for keeping me company."  
  
"I think it should be the other way around. I mean I owe you so much. If it weren't for you, some creep would have probably picked me up. Plus you've been paying for my food and accommodation. And you've been a saint. You are probably the nicest person I've met. I owe you so much." Cas gingerly placed a hand on her stomach, "We owe you a lot."  
  
Emma shifted uncomfortably and placed her eyes firmly on the road.  
  
"It was nothing. I guess we're even."  
  
She smiled at Cas and Cas returned it.  
  
"So shall we carry on with the game we started yesterday?" Emma asked.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Where were we? Oh I remember, mill."  
  
"Wind."  
  
"Power."  
  
"Flower."  
  
"Power flower?" Emma asked confused.  
  
"No, Flower Power. You know hippies." Cas explained making a peace sign.  
  
Emma laughed, "I guess I'll let you get away with it this time. Ok, so flower. Umm... Garden."  
  
The game continued for a while before they got bored. Cas was about to start staring out of the window again. Emma leaned over and turned on the radio. Out blared a Beatles' song. Cas recognised it as 'Let It Be'. It was one of her dad's favourite.  
  
"Now this is good music." Emma commented, "Do you like the Beatles?"  
  
"I guess." Cas shrugged.  
  
"You guess? You guess!? What kind of an answer is that?" Emma demanded, "You either like them or you don't. I can't see how anyone couldn't though. These guys rule."  
  
Cas smiled amused at how protective Emma was acting. Her smile grew as Emma stared singing along. And then she heard it. It was clearer in her singing voice then when she was talking. A hint of a slight Russian accent. It was faded, as if Emma hadn't used it in a while or was trying to forget it. She stared at Emma trying to work it out.  
  
"What?" Emma asked.  
  
"Nothing, I just realised how little I know about you."  
  
"And visa versa. You are a complete mystery to me."  
  
"I guess we are the same in that sense. We both don't want to talk to much about who we are."  
  
"Ok, let's play a game. We'll take it in turns to ask each other a question and the other one must answer, unless it's too uncomfortable. Deal?"  
  
"Deal." Cas gave in.  
  
"Ok. So where is 'home' for you?"  
  
"L.A. You?"  
  
"Canada. Well, I did live in Russia for a while when I was little." Emma admitted.  
  
"That would explain the accent."  
  
"You've noticed?" Emma looked concerned.  
  
"Yeah. It's only the slight one though. Why?"  
  
"Nothing." Emma said quickly, "I just thought that I had lost it that's all. So what kinda music are you into?"  
  
"All types. I'm not really picky. I have a respect for all. You?"  
  
"The Beatles, Queen, Elvis, the classics really. Ok, so what are you planning on naming your kid?"  
  
This question took Cas by surprise. She'd had too much on her mind to be worrying about names for her kid.  
  
"I have no idea." She admitted.  
  
"I know how about Rune if it's a girl. It means mystery, just like you." Emma explained smiling.  
  
Cas smiled back.  
  
'Rune.' She thought. 'I guess it's a good name for a girl surrounded in mystery.'  
  
"Or how about naming her after your mother." Emma suggested.  
  
"No." Cas said firmly, she then decided to steer the conversation onto safer grounds, "Have you already planned what you're going to call your kids?"  
  
"Kind of." Emma smiled sheepishly, "But first I need to find a decent husband and settle down."  
  
"Good luck."  
  
"And we're here." Emma announced, turning into a car park, "Our next stop."  
  
Cas stared at the motel. It looked more like a hotel, then a motel. It defiantly had a lot more class then the last place. Three or four stars definitely. They got out of the car and carried their bags inside.  
  
The reception was nicely decorated with cream walls and wooden floor and furniture. Emma walked over to the front desk and rung the bell. A smartly dress women appeared behind it. She took a look at Emma, then at Cas, then back at Emma.  
  
"Yes? How can I help you?" She inquired.  
  
'Snob.' Cas thought, when she saw the way she was looking at her worn clothes.  
  
"I have a room booked." Emma informed her, "Under the name of Waters."  
  
The women checked the computer.  
  
"Ah yes. Miss Waters, a twin room." She handed Emma a key, "Room 47. 4th floor. On your left. Have a nice stay."  
  
The number made Cas' blood run cold again. 47 again. If Cas believed in fate then she would have thought that something was up, instead she just took it as a strange coincidence.  
  
They took the elevator up to the 4th floor, then followed the signs leading them to their room. Emma turned the key in the lock and switched on the lights. It was a much nicer room then the last place they had stayed.  
  
"Nice bathroom, TV and oh look, a mint on the pillow. Classy!" Emma commented, taking in the room.  
  
"And a nice view of the motorway." Cas added, "But this place is nice. It's official, I love your brother."  
  
"So do I. I bet he'd be glad to hear that." She laughed.  
  
"I bag the shower first." Emma shouted, running into the bathroom like a 3 year old.  
  
Cas settled down on the bed, laughing. She felt exhausted. The journeying was taking a lot out of her. But it would be over soon. She'd be safe soon. They would be safe.  
  
'I wonder what Emma's bother is like?' She thought and made a deal with herself to ask her in the morning.  
  
She managed to force herself to get changed and then slid into bed. She feel asleep the second her head touch the pillow. She drifted into peaceful sleep.  
  
A/N: So what do you think? Are you any closer to uncovering the truth? Review NOW!!! It's the only way you're going to get the next chapter. Anyway, the more reviews I get, the more inspired I'll be to write. Plus I love to know what you think. 


	4. A Smile From Hades

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Hello. Sorry I took a while to update. Hope you like this chapter. The story's beginning to draw to a close, I think I'll only write a couple of chapters more. Thank you once again to all that have reviewed; coolbeans, AME, Rachel, Lynn, Gabs, Colly E, tennischickGGEA, shawnbradylover, Cass, Lor. Thank you so much. Keep the reviews coming in. Well R&R and enjoy - Bex  
  
Cas stirred from her sleep. She was annoyed that a few raises of sunlight, which had managed to break through the curtains, had woken her up. Her vision was blurred with sleep and she didn't bother to look at the clock. She stumbled out of bed and her first thought was to drink some coffee, to wake up. But she quickly remembered the baby she was carrying, so grabbed some clothes and headed for the shower.  
  
Warm water trickled down her body, as she tried to wash away the memories of the fire. Her dream was back again and had plagued her sleep once more. It was a nightmare that she'd been having ever since she was young, and as much as she hope that it would stop haunting her, it hadn't. If anything it had been getting worse. The screams were getting loader now. And the flames were hotter.  
  
She heard the muffled sound of the telephone ringing in the bedroom. It stop after a couple of rings, Cas presumed that Emma had picked it up, and then she heard a faint click as it was placed back down. A little while later Cas thought that she heard the room door open and close. Cas turned of the water and step out of the shower. She dried herself down and changed into her clothes. She ran a brush though her long, brown hair, before tying it up.  
  
She was about to leave, when a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. She ran across to the toilette and through up into it. The nausea was coming up fast and hard, Cas could only managed to cough between hurling. She wiped her mouth with some toilette paper, before sinking to the floor next to the toilette. Silent tears streamed down her face. They were almost alien to her, for she'd refused to cry for such along time now. Every inch of her body ached with the strain of the ordeal she was going though. She couldn't understand why this was happening to her. She didn't know what she'd done to deserve this. So much was happening to her, too fast for her to handle. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She walked to the sink and rinsed out her mouth. She stared at her blood shot eyes in the mirror.  
  
"Pull yourself together," She whispered to her reflection, "You'll been in Canada by to night and this will all be over. You'll be safe. You both will."  
  
Cas staggered slightly back into the other room to find that Emma was no longer there. Instead she found a note:  
  
I've already gone down to breakfast. My bother rang. He's got some good news. I'll tell you about it when you join me.  
  
See you soon - Emma.  
  
A few moments later, Cas was scanning the café for a sign of Emma. She soon stopped when she saw Emma waving her over, from a table at the back. She crossed the restaurant to join her.  
  
"Morning. Are you ok?" Emma asked, after seeing Cas' pale face.  
  
"I'm fine, just a bit worn out."  
  
"Oh. I've ordered us both continental breakfasts," Emma told her, indicating to the buffet table, "So help yourself to as much as you want."  
  
"Thanks," Cas said, as she grabbed a plate and got some toast and fruit.  
  
"So what was this good new that your brother told you about?" Cas asked as she sat back down.  
  
"He rang this morning and I told him about you and your situation and how you saved me yesterday. And he says that he's got enough room at our house for you to stay as long as you need to."  
  
Cas stared at her trying to work out if Emma was just pulling her leg.  
  
"You serious?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Wow, I mean are you sure?" Cas asked again, Emma could only managed an amused nodded, "Wow, that would be great. Are your family a group of angels?"  
  
Emma's eyes shifted uneasily to the floor.  
  
"It's nothing."  
  
There was a silence that settled at their table for a few minutes.  
  
"Emma?"  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"What's your brother like?"  
  
"My brother?" The question seemed to take Emma by surprise, " Well.. Um. his name is Paul. He's older then me. He's a lawyer. Not married."  
  
Cas was worried slightly about how shaky and uneasy Emma was talking about her brother.  
  
"But you're right, he's an angel. I haven't seen him for ages." Emma smiled reassuringly at Cas, "When you're finished, we better get on our way."  
  
*****  
  
They had been travelling on the road for a few hours now. Cas had tried to get Emma to talk more about her family, but the subject made her uneasy. Cas decided that it was unfair to push, seeing as her family wasn't an easy topic for her either. But it was strange, because from what Cas had gathered, they were a close-knitted family. Instead she steered the conversation on to safer subjects like sport, films and music.  
  
After a while longer in the car, Emma pulled into a roadside dinner. She told Cas that her brother wanted her to check in, joking about how protective and paranoid he could be. Emma gave her some money and said that she should get something to eat. Cas wandered into the dinner. It was decorated in tacky 50's style furniture. She bought a muffin and some juice and sat down at a table by the window watching the people. These were normal people. People would didn't have much bigger worries then paying their bills and making money. These people were a lot different from her. How she wished that she could be one of them.  
  
Then she saw him. He looked like he was Chinese, tall and had thick black hair. There was nothing distinct about him apart from his scar. He had a scar running down his left cheek. He turned and smiled at her and she realised where she had seen him from before.....  
  
*Flashback*  
  
The fire was getting more intense now and was spreading faster. The screams were getting louder too. Then she saw him. He was on the other side of the fire, along with the screams. The fire flickered in front of his face making him look like the devil himself. There was something shinning in his hand. It was a gun.  
  
She gasped and took a step back knocking over a plant pot. It fell to the floor and smashed. He turned to look at her. She tried to back away further, tried to escape his flame filled eyes. He smiled at her. A smile sent from Hades itself....  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
Cas began to panic. He was the man from her dreams. He was the man who was chasing her the day she'd left home. She'd thought that she'd lost him. But he'd seen her and he was heading over. The man, who had hounded her, was closing in for the kill. She got up and rushed to the door. She decided that she'd be safer if she found Emma and got out of here. Running from danger was the only natural thing for her.  
  
She ran down the side of the dinner, facing away from the road. She looked behind her. He was no longer there. She allowed herself to breath slightly. She was going to be ok. She turned back to the front, only to be met by an arm, which shoved her back into the wall. Her back smacked against the wall and she let out a small groan of pain. Then a hand slid round her throat. She stared at him, like a caged animal, her eyes filled with fear. He smiled a cruel smile and tightened his grip slightly.  
  
"You been ever so hard to find," He whispered softy in her ear, "But no one ever escapes me. Never."  
  
She began to choke and struggle. Desperately she tried to take in air and save herself. But his grip remained strong around her throat. The more she struggled, the more amused he seemed. Cas began to black out.  
  
'This is it,' She thought in despair, 'it's over. This is how it's going to end.'  
  
But as the darkness began to claim her, a brown fist met Scar-face's throat. It hit his windpipe and he doubled over choking. Some one grabbed hold of Cas.  
  
"Leave her alone you asshole!" Emma screamed at him, "FIRE!" She then stared to scream, "FIRE!"  
  
After a few moments more people had arrived.  
  
"Where's the fire?" A bulky man asked.  
  
Emma pointed at Scar-face.  
  
"He attacked my friend," Emma told him.  
  
"Did he now," The bulky guy walked over and grab Scar-face by the neck, "Don't worry love, your safe now."  
  
Cas nodded slightly, still too winded to speak. Emma took her by the hand and led her back to the car.  
  
"You ok?" Emma asked.  
  
Cas nodded, coughing slightly.  
  
"Do you know who he was?" Emma asked.  
  
Cas lied by shaking her head. She didn't want to worry Emma even more. She didn't want her to discover the truth. Cas felt a huge wave of relief wash over her. She only barely escaped this time. She prayed that there wouldn't be a next time. And she began to cry. She couldn't stop herself, the tears just poured down her face. Emma rapped her arms around her.  
  
"Shhhh. It's ok Cas. It's ok," Emma soothed, "Everything is going to be ok. You're safe now. Safe."  
  
After a few moments, Cas settled down.  
  
"Thanks," She whispered drying her tears with her sleeve.  
  
"That's alright. What are friends for."  
  
"Why did you scream 'Fire'?"  
  
"The first thing they teach you in self defence is not to scream 'help'. 'Help' means that it's your problem and not theirs, so it human instinct to stay away. But fire is everyone problem, so you are bound to get someone coming to help. I think we better be going," Emma suggested.  
  
A smile touch Cas' lips. She wasn't alone. She had a friend. A friend that had just saved her. What more could she ask for? Emma returned the smile and gentle guided Cas back into the car. 


	5. Untangling The Web

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Hello again. Did you forget about me? Sorry I took so long updating. We started back at school and I had heaps of course work to do, plus panto season has started in the village, so I've been busy acting my nights away. I know that it's not really a good excuse and I'll try and up date sooner in future. Plus I'll be encouraged if I get reviews. Deal? Talking about review, thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: chocolatechipcookies777, Gabs, AME, tennischickGGEA, Rachel. Special thanks to Dream Writer 4 Life for proofreading this for me. Only one more chapter to go and I've revealed the identity of one of the characters. So please R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex  
  
Cas' nightmare was coming true; she was turning into her parents. Not only did she look left and right before she crossed a road, but she looked behind as well. She was unsettled and nervous, her senses on full alert. She was being paranoid, but not without good reasons. She was worried about herself and her baby. She was worried about what might happen if the people who were hunting her found her. But she refused to be like her father and let her paranoia push everyone away.  
  
Her whole body ached from exhaustion. She kept reminding herself that she would be in Canada by tonight. She wouldn't be alone when she got there; she'd already had a friend. She would start a new life. Her child would have the life that she had, but lost. They would be a happy family, living a normal life. This last thought reminded her of how her family used to be.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
The snow covered the ground like a thick, white blanket of glistening light. It wasn't the first time that she'd seen it, but her young mind couldn't recall any memory of it before now. It was new and exciting to her, causing her eyes to light up like a child on Christmas Day.  
  
She ignored all the warnings and ran straight outside. She wandered around in the ice-cold wind, taking no notice of the painful chill on her bare arms. Instead she played in the snow, fascinated by it.  
  
A few days later she was in bed, ill. They couldn't help, but point out that they had told her so, although they were sympathetic all the same. They stayed at her side, reading and talking to her, nursing her back to health. Her mother used to sit by her bed and sing her to sleep. It was a sound that she would ache to hear when she was older. But they were together. A perfect family. A memory from some forgotten dream.  
  
She didn't realise that it was all about to end, when they left that night. She didn't know that her life would be shattered and everything would change. She didn't know, as she snuggled asleep, that her perfect family would soon go up in smoke.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
The car jolted to a holt, causing Cas to wake with a start. Everything was blurry. She groggily wiped the sleep from her eyes.  
  
"Are we here?" She yawned, still lost in a daze.  
  
Emma said nothing. Here eyes were fixed on the steering wheel in front of her.  
  
"Emma?" Cas asked, but she still got no response.  
  
It dawned on Cas that something wasn't right. Cas looked slowly out of the window, which had raindrops trickling down the glass. They were on a small bridge, surrounded by trees, in the middle of nowhere. This wasn't Canada. Alarm bells were blaring inside Cas' head.  
  
"Emma? What's going on?" there was a hint of panic in her voice.  
  
"I'm sorry," Emma apologised, her gaze never leaving the steering wheel, "I never wanted it to be this way. I wish...I don't...I'm so sorry, Cas."  
  
"Emma, you're scaring me now." Cas couldn't keep the panic out of her voice now. "You're sorry for what? What's going on? Where are we?"  
  
"She would have killed me if I didn't hand you over. You know I said that we all had something to hide? Well, people are after me too. She promised that she would give me a new identity and life in exchange..." She hesitated; her voice was ridden with guilt, "In exchange for you."  
  
These words took a second to sink in. Emma had betrayed her. Just like everyone else. Why hadn't she trusted her gut feeling that there wasn't something right about her? She stared at Emma in horror and disgust.  
  
A black car drove down the small, isolated road and parked a few metres behind them. Two men step out into the pouring rain. One of them was the man with the scarred face. The other one was dressed in a dull trench coat and hat, so his identity was hidden from her. She began to struggle, as she was gripped by fear, desperately trying to get out of her seat belt.  
  
"Don't," Emma ordered softly. "It'll do you no good. There is no use struggling, you won't be able to get out."  
  
But Cas struggled none the less. She was determined to escape. Emma turned to face her. Her face was covered with guilt and tears were forming behind her eyes.  
  
"I so sorry, Cas," Her voice broke. "Truly I am."  
  
She leapt up from her seat and exited the car into the cold, wet night.  
  
"Emma! EMMA!" Cas screamed at her Judas, half in anger, half begging her to help.  
  
Cas tried again and again and again to free herself, but it was no good. No matter how much she tugged and pulled at the belt, it remained fastened.  
  
Cas then saw it glimmering in the dim light, like a small ray of hope. A small pocket-knife lay on the floor, on the driver's side. She loosened her seat belt as much as possible and shuffled herself forward. She lay sideways and stretched her arm towards the knife. It ached with the strain, but she kept on stretching. Her fingers brushed past the cold metal, but it was no good, it was out of her reach.  
  
"No," She moaned in frustration.  
  
Her small ray of hope was quickly snuffed out. Instead she was forced to watch her fate unroll. She couldn't hear what 'Emma' and the men were saying, but she could lip read. It was one of her many hidden talents.  
  
"You're late," Scar-Face stated.  
  
"Sorry. Heavy traffic," 'Emma' snapped.  
  
"Where is she?" The other man asked.  
  
'Emma' nodded towards the car.  
  
"What's...what's going to happed to her?" 'Emma' asked concerned.  
  
"What's it to you, Anna?" Scar-Face laughed.  
  
Anna looked down at the floor.  
  
"Don't worry. She'll be in good hands. Nothing bad will happen to her," The other man promised. "I have to admit that I was worried for a while that you weren't going to keep your end of the bargain. I thought that maybe she'd worked out that you were talking to me on the phone and not your 'brother'."  
  
Anna shook her head.  
  
"I was worried that she wasn't going to trust me after your oaf attacked her," She snapped.  
  
"I didn't attack her. Anyway, I wouldn't have been sent to collect her if the boss didn't think that you were going to let her go. You got to emotionally attached to her. It wasn't smart. It clouded your judgement and makes you want to do the morale thing," Scar-face snapped back.  
  
"At least it was better then trying to strangle her," Anna spat. "What part of 'bring her back alive' didn't you understand?"  
  
"I was only was going to do until she passed out."  
  
"Oh really. And it didn't occur to your thick head that it might have caused her serious damage, not to mention the baby!"  
  
The other man raised his hands before the bickering could progress any further.  
  
"Well, Miss Espinosa, your job here is done. Or should I say Miss Elizabeth Knight."  
  
He handed Anna a passport, cash and some other documents. She snatched them and got in the car.  
  
"Take Miss Knight to the airport," He ordered Scar-Face.  
  
Scar-Face nodded and got into the car. The other man watched the car speed away and then slowly turned to face Cas' car and began to head towards it.  
  
Cas began to panic more. She desperately tried again to get out. Tears forming in her eyes from the frustration.  
  
'Come one. Come on. Come on,' She silently begged.  
  
But the belt remained fastened, trapping her in the car. She watched in despair, as the man reached the car. He slowly opened the door and slid in next to her. He removed his hat, revealing soaked blond hair. She stared in shock at the face that she knew all too well.  
  
"Uncle Liam?"  
  
A/N: Dun, dun, da!! So they you have it, Emma's true identity. Congrats to all who guess correctly. Now the big question is left: Who is Cas? I've also decided to throw in 'Uncle Liam', any guesses who it is? All will be revealed in the next chapter, so please review, cos it's the only way your getting it! 


	6. The Truth

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Hello again. Panto season is over, so I now have more free time on my hands. Yay! Thanks to Cara, agentalana/ lanabana, alexis, Agent13, tennischickGGEA, Cass, lynn, Brynne, Dream Writer 4 Life, Taya and any anonymous reviewers for reviewing. Please keep them coming. Special thanks once again to Dream Writer 4 Life for proofreading this for me. I've taken her advice and some other people's and have decided to keep going. But you do learn the identity of Cas in this chapter. So R&R and ENJOY!! - Bex  
  
Cas stared at the man sitting in the seat next to her, with a thousand different emotions running though her. The man who was after her. The man who happened to be her uncle, Liam Sark.  
  
Out everyone's guesses as to what Sark's true first name was, Liam was at the end of every list. Liam, the Irish name given to him by his Irish nanny. The woman who was more of a mother to him, then the woman who abandoned him when he was a few months old. His real parents were Irina Derevko and Alexander Khasinau. He grew up in a small village in Ireland with Kathleen O'Rourke, his nanny. She was a kind and gentle person, who'd lost her husband to the IRA and her son in childbirth. Her son would be the same age as Liam if he had lived, and she treated Liam as if he was the son she'd never had. But later the mother he hardly knew, Irina, stole him from her, and he'd been forced to work for the father who didn't know his son existed.  
  
Liam Sark stared at his niece. Her face was a mixture of Sydney and Vaughn's. She looked almost exactly like Sydney. Apart from the eyes. She had brilliant green eyes, a gift from her father. Her beautiful face was now a mask of fear and questioning. Just like the day he'd walked back into her life.  
  
"Hello Kate," He greeted simply.  
  
He remembered that day so well. He'd been waiting for it for so long. From the moment she was born, he'd been there. He'd watched her grow up from a distance, protecting her and hoping that one day she would know how much her uncle loved her. He remember when she said her first word, took her first step, how she looked at her mother and grandfather's funereal and how proud he was when she graduated first in her class. He was there for all of the important moments in her life, secretly sharing them with her. He'd finally got a chance to meet her face to face when his mother, Irina, decided that it was time. He had first gained her trust and then told her the truth: the truth about her family. All about SD-6, the prophecy, the CIA, her mother and grandfather's double lives, all of the secrets her family had kept from her. But most importantly he told her about the second prophecy and 'The Key'.  
  
It had hit her hard. He knew it would. She did believe him at first, but then she confronted her father, who didn't deny anything. He managed to achieve his first objective and destroyed any traces of a bond remaining between the father and daughter. But instead of coming with him, like Irina had expected, she'd run away leaving no clues as to where she was heading. She had been very hard to tract down. But he didn't expect anything else from someone with his family blood in her veins.  
  
"I've come to take you home Kate," He told her gently.  
  
"You don't mean back to LA, do you?" It was more of a statement then a question.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"No, I'm taking you to Russia. To your grandmother," He paused. "And to your mother."  
  
Cas felt her head beginning to swim as she absorbed this.  
  
"No, it can't be. My mother's dead..."  
  
"No she isn't, Kate. She's been held by your grandmother for the past ten years."  
  
He let these words sink in.  
  
"And Papa Jack?" She asked after a few moments, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.  
  
"No, he died in the fire. I'm sorry Kate," He said gently. "Your father's been trying to find your mother. That's why he works so hard. He kept his distance from you to keep you safe. The CIA, your mother and your father thought that you were 'The Key' mentioned in Rambaldi's prophecy," He looked at her swollen stomach quickly, "What they didn't realise that it was your girl."  
  
"How do you know?" Kate demanded, her voice breaking. "How do you know that I'm having a girl? How do you know that my child will be 'The Key'?"  
  
"Because all signs point to you, and Rambaldi was never wrong."  
  
He took hold of her hand. Tears were welling up behind her eyes. He felt his heart begin to break, seeing her like this. She looked lost, scared and helpless. Her face had a worn and tried expression covering it, not a single sign of hope. She was barely 18 and yet she was going through so much. Here eyes reflected the strain of her life. They looked aged, and showed a girl who had lost her childhood. A different girl to the carefree one she'd once been.  
  
Kate felt sick. This was all coming to fast for her to handle. Last year she had been a normal girl, living in L.A. Her father was distant and her mother and grandpapa had died in a fire when she was 8. She was dating a great guy and she was happy. 8 months ago she discovered that she had an uncle, her mother's half brother. 4 and half month ago, she found out she was pregnant, she had learnt the truth about her family, the lies they had told her, the secrets they'd kept, and all about this man called Rambaldi. And she had run away. Now she had learnt that her mother was alive, her grandma was after her and her father had really cared. She felt sick knowing that her father had really loved her, but she'd left him. At all the lies and secrets. At the shock of her mother being alive. At the prophecy that ruled her life. At this fate that she couldn't change.  
  
"What about Justin?" She whispered.  
  
Justin, Sark remembered, was the father of her child. The first boy she'd fallen in love with. The first boy she'd slept with. And he loved her as much in return. But who wouldn't fall in love with someone as beautiful, clever and amazing as his niece?  
  
She and Justin reminded him so much of himself and Siobhan O'Brian. She had meant everything to him. She'd given him hope and changed his view of the world. But then his mother stole her from him; she not only killed all his hope, but his heart as well.  
  
But the day that Kate was born had reanimated Sark's cold heart. Sark promised himself that Irina wouldn't destroy his niece, like she'd destroyed him.  
  
"Justin's safe. I made sure of that. I could bring him to Russia as well, if you wanted?"  
  
Kate shook her head.  
  
"No he deserves a normal life. Something me and my baby will never have," Kate choked.  
  
She finally broke down. Floods of tears escaped her eyes and poured down her face, like the rain outside. Sark's heart ached for her. He wished that there was some way to safe her from her fate. But he knew he couldn't. Instead he wrapped his arms tightly around her. She collapsed on his chest, sobbing her heart out, too tired to carry on fighting.  
  
They were so alike. Both had lost the people who they loved the most. Both had lost all the hope they ever had. Both had lost their freedom to choose the path they wanted. Both of them had their lives destroyed by their family and by their lies.  
  
"Shhhh. It's going to be okay, Kate," He soothed, uncharacteristically letting his emotions show. "No matter what happens, I'm going to take care of you and your baby. I'm with you," He promised, "Like I've always have been. I'm with you."  
  
A/N: I'm sure that you have lots of questions as to what's going to happen. And I'm sure that I've got the answers. If you want to find out, you're going to have to review. So hit that button now, lol! 


	7. No More False Promises

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Sorry I took a little while updating. I had a mild case of writer's block, which has passed. I'll try to be quicker in future. Anyway, I decided to bring Vaughn in, hope you like it. Please review or e-mail me and tell me what you think. Thanks to aliasdemon99, Gabs, Agent13, lynn, Dream Writer 4 Life for reviewing. And special thanks as usual to Dream Writer 4 Life for proofreading this for me. Anyway R&R and ENJOY! - Bex  
  
The door creaked as it was woken from its slumber. Sun light shone through the window, filling the room with warm, soft light. The room had been left untouched, like a shrine where time stood still, whilst the world carried on around it. He was the first person to have entered here for months. He had kept it just as she had left it, so it would be ready for her, waiting for her, when she returned.  
  
There were photos and precious items covering every shelf and surface, a bookcase crammed with books and posters pinned up on the faded purple walls. He remembered that he had promised to repaint the walls for her, a promise he never followed through. Maybe if he had keep the promises he'd made, maybe if he had told her the truth, maybe if he hadn't kept his distance, then she would still be here. She would still be safe.  
  
He ran a hand through his blond hair, his face a mask of fear, wrinkles forming on his forehead. His heart ached for his losses. First his father, then his wife and now his child: all stolen from him by the same women. He walked around the room, staring at the treasures that filled it. He stopped at a photo of his daughter with her friends. The smiling faces stared back at him, reminding him how little he knew about her life. Telling himself that he'd stayed away to keep her safe seemed more and more like a poor excuse then a reason.  
  
A photo caught his eye. He gingerly picked it up and crossed the room to sit on the end of the untouched bed. He ran his hand down the antique, sliver frame and stared at the people in it. There were 3 of them. He and Sydney sat on the couch; an arm around each other, with their little Kate snuggled between them. Even then Kate's features were a mixture of Sydney's and his. She had Sydney's beauty and brown hair, but she had his emerald eyes. She was living proof that their love had been worth fighting for.  
  
He remembered how happy he was the day they had finally taken down SD-6 and he was finally allowed to be with Sydney. A little later they married and had Kate. Kate's birth was probably the happiest day of his life. She was a sign that they were finally going to all live a happy and normal life.  
  
That was shattered by Rambaldi's second prophecy. Rambaldi, a man who affected his life so much. Kate was only 4 when the CIA discovered it. His family had just come back from a trip to Mount Subasio. (They had taken Kate there just to be on the safe side.) The prophecy talked about 'The Key'. 'The Key' would be a girl, born to a descendant of the women in his first prophecy. 'The Key' would be the one to unravel all of his works and make sense of them. Without 'The Key', no one would ever gain the greatest power.  
  
In the second prophecy, Rambaldi mentioned key signs to indicate who would give birth to 'The Key' and who 'The Key' would be. Sydney fitted the profile for 'The Bearer of The Key' and Kate had fitted the profile of 'The Key'. They all thought that Kate was 'The Key' and they all panicked. Because Irina was on the loose and no one knew where she was, he and Sydney became very protective of Kate. But then Sydney was kidnapped and Jack killed in the process. He became distant, putting all of his effort into finding Sydney again. In his desperate search, he'd let Kate drift away, and now he may loose her all together.  
  
As soon as she had disappeared, he went to talk to her friends and sent a large group of CIA agents to find her. After talking to her friends, he made the alarming discovery that Kate might be pregnant. They also gathered intel that Irina thought that Kate was 'The Barer of The Key' and not 'The Key' itself. After that, more agents were sent to find her.  
  
He would be forced to wait in purgatory for a sign to say that she'd been found or for her to come home. Every time his doorbell rang or his phone rang or he received a new e-mail in his inbox, his heart would be filled with hope, only to be let down again. He would sit there every night, having a drink with the phone next to him, and staring at the door as if he was expecting her to walk through it. It had become a ritual. It had become his life.  
  
They finally had a breakthrough when an agent called to say that he had found her. Only they were knocked back down, when they received another call to say that his daughter had put him in hospital. When the agent had finally regained consciousness, all he could tell them was that Kate was pregnant and she was travelling with a stranger. After analyzing the footage taken by the security cameras at the café, they confirmed that the stranger was Anna Espinosa. He had panicked his hope faded even more.  
  
Two tears crept down his face. Something no one would ever expect to see on this face hardened by sorrow. He brushed them away with his hand. He gently stroked a finger down his wife's face. He had failed her again. He first failed her by letting her be taken, then by failing to get her back, and now for losing their daughter.  
  
"But not anymore," He whispered to the photo. "No more false promises. I am going to find you and Kate. I am going to bring you both home. And we are going to be a happy, normal family again. I promise Syd, I promise."  
  
A/N: What do you think? Feedback please I love to know what you think. 


	8. A Russian Winter

Disclaimer: Don't Own etc etc. You know the drill.  
  
A/N: Sorry I took so long updating. I've just come back from a nice little break in Cyprus. I then was buried in a mountain of homework, had a few test and I've just had 2 teeth removed. I'm 2 more out next week :o( (Not Good). So please review, I could do with a bit of cheering up. Talking about reviews, thanks to hardshoe, lynn, Dream Writer 4 Life for reviewing. And special thanks to Dream Writer 4 Life for proofreading this for me. :o) (Big smile with gaps). So without anymore ramberling, here is the next chapter. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
Kate's eyes slowly fluttered open. She'd been dreaming of L.A; sunny skies, warm days, her friends and Justin. But her heart fell when she saw that she was still trapped on the same private jet bound for Russia. She had no idea where she was at the moment. As hard as she tried, she couldn't remember how long she'd been asleep for. Her eyes searched around the plane for her uncle, the last person left in her life that she trusted. She didn't know what she would do if he betrayed her too.  
  
She relaxed when she saw him sitting a few seats away. Kate got up and slowly walked towards him. He didn't feel her presence, like he usually did. He was too distracted by the box that lay on his lap. He sifted through the contents 'til he found a photograph. He gently pulled it out and stared at it, completely mesmerised.  
  
Kate stared at it over his shoulder. It was a picture of a boy and a girl. The boy, she assumed, was her uncle when he was about her age, but she no idea who the girl was. The girl had long, soft brown hair, which curled into perfect ringlets. Her eyes were warming and the colour of rich soil. She had deep red lips and her pale skin was covered with light freckles. A gold cross necklace hung around her neck. There was no way to describe her other than beautiful. Her uncle sat next to her, with an arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder, both of them were smiling. Kate had never seen her uncle look so happy.  
  
"She's really beautiful. Who is she?"  
  
Sark's head snapped around: he looked startled for a minute, but relaxed after he saw it was her. Kate sat down in the seat next to him and looked at him as she waited for his answer. He turned the picture away from her slightly, almost as if he was trying to hide it.  
  
"She's someone I knew along time ago," He replied softly.  
  
She expected him to continue but he didn't. Then she noticed a gold cross hanging around his neck. The same one that the girl was wearing in the photo.  
  
"That belonged to her, didn't it?"  
  
"You're a very observant one, aren't you Kate? It did. She gave it to me to help remind me to have some faith," He took it off and placed it around her neck. "I want you to have it. To help give you some faith."  
  
Kate clasped the small cross in her hand. She didn't know how much that cross meant to him, but she had quite a good idea. His eyes seemed sadden to see it go. It amazed Sark how all his defensives that he had build up over the years had disappeared around Kate. Only one other person had ever had that effect on him. It always hurt when he thought of them.  
  
"What happened to her?" Kate asked gently.  
  
His eyes feel to the floor, to hide the emotions that were flooding them. He stood up suddenly and forced himself to regain control.  
  
"I'm going to ask the pilot how much longer it is until we land," He replied.  
  
He walked off. He didn't look at her, not even when he spoke. This puzzled Kate. She twiddled the cross thoughtfully between her fingers. His behaviour had something to do with the girl in the photo. She knew that her uncle didn't like talking about his past, but questions about that girl had unnerved him. And that worried Kate, but also made her more curious. Why did that girl have such an effect on him? But she knew that he probably wasn't going to give her the answers she wanted, so she was left to wonder about that girl, who was a complete mystery to her.  
  
"We'll be landing in fiver minutes," Sark told her, interrupting her thoughts. "You better fasten your seatbelt."  
  
He sat down in the chair next to her. Kate stiffened, as fear gripped her body. They were here already. Sark noticed this and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. She squeezed back as they began the decent down to meet her fate.  
  
After they had landed, Sark helped Kate out of the jet. Kate was almost blinded by the sunlight being reflected off the snow. She squinted at her surroundings. Never before had she seen so much snow. Then she spotted a black limo waiting near the end of the runway. Standing by it was Scar- Face. When he saw her, he gave her a small twisted smile that made her shudder. Sark protectively placed a hand on her arm and guided her to the car. Scar-Face opened the door for them and they slid into the limo. Kate suddenly felt very tired again when she sat down. She closed her eyes for a second to gather her thoughts, and before she knew it, she was sound asleep on her uncle's shoulder.  
  
Sark smiled at his niece fondly. She did posses her mother's immunity to jet lag. He'd always wanted her to be around him. For her to know and to trust him. But not like this. He gently brushed a loose strand of hair off her face. He didn't want her to be around him like this, knowing that he was responsible for taking away her life. He didn't want her to be here. She didn't belong here.  
  
'But you had no other choice,' He told himself firmly. 'If you hadn't brought her here, then someone else would have.'  
  
But these thoughts didn't reassure him. He was troubled by all of this. Something, which hadn't happened in along time. But what other choice did he have?  
  
A/N: What do you think? Feedback is warmly welcomed. Feel free to e-mail me as well. So review NOW! I know that you itching to press that button, lol! 


	9. News

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Hey. Sorry I took so long updating. It's been very busy over here. I'll try my best to make sure I don't take so long updating chapters in the future. Please forgive me. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter; Gabs, lynn, Dream Writer 4 Life and apVAUGHNlover13 .You guys rock!! Well here it is, the next chapter. R&R and ENJOY!!!! - Bex  
  
The high pitch ringing of the phone woke Vaughn from his restless sleep. Automatically, his hand shot out like lighting and he answered it.  
  
"Hello?" He asked, his soul gripped with cruel anticipation.  
  
"Hey man. It's Weiss here..."  
  
"Have you got any news?" Vaughn cut him off.  
  
"Yeah, but I can't discuss it over the phone. Can you meet me in the office in about 20 minutes?"  
  
"I'll be there in 10."  
  
And without waiting for and answer, Vaughn hung up, got out of bed and rushed to get dressed.  
  
****  
  
10 minutes later, Vaughn was marching down the corridors of the CIA building. His thoughts were plagued by the question as to whether this was the news he was hoping for or dreading. He prayed it was news he was hoping for, he'd had so much bad luck that it was about time he had some good. He arrived at Weiss' door and entered, not bothering to knock. Weiss was flicking through some papers, but looked up when his door opened, then relaxed when he saw it was Vaughn.  
  
Weiss wedding ring caught the light slightly. Vaughn couldn't believe how quickly Weiss had gotten married. A few months after the take down of SD-6, He met a woman called Kara Wright. They dated for a while, then Kara accidentally fell pregnant. Weiss was shocked at first, but he was overjoyed when his son, Craig, was born. Weiss realised that he couldn't live without either of them, so they got married.  
  
Kara had become as close to Sydney as Francie had once been. The truth about Francie still stung Syd like an open wound, which would probably never fully heal. Craig and Kate had grown up together. They were best friends, joined at the hip most of the time. Craig was crushed when Kate ran away. Then he went and got himself into trouble by breaking Justin's nose, when he found out the Kate was pregnant. Weiss knew that Vaughn envied his close nit family. He caught Vaughn staring at the photo of the family on his desk. He turned it away slightly, as if he was trying to protect him.  
  
"Hey man. How you been?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Alright," Vaughn lied.  
  
Weiss didn't seem reassured by the answer, but didn't pursue it. Instead he got out of his chair and walked over to Vaughn. He picked up two mugs of coffee and handed one to him.  
  
"I thought that you could do with this and if you're hungry..."  
  
"Eric, what's the news?" Vaughn interrupted.  
  
Weiss sighed and rubbed his forehead slightly.  
  
"We were contacted by MI6 yesterday..."  
  
"And they know where to find Sydney and Kate?" Vaughn cut across.  
  
"Sort of," Weiss sighed. "They have some Intel that might lead us to Derevko, Sydney and Kate."  
  
Vaughn studied Weiss' face for a second. He didn't like the look spread across it.  
  
"But they're not handing it over. There's a catch isn't there?"  
  
"Yeah. Have you ever heard about MI6's 'Ghost' division?" Weiss asked as he sat down on the edge of his desk.  
  
"Yes. They're a division that MI6 has never confirmed or denied. They're rumoured to be top-level agents, assassins mainly, who do highly classified and dangerous operations. No one knows who the 'Ghost' agents are. Their identities are top secret. Some of the agents have even faked their own deaths, so that their true identity is hidden. If any of the agents are caught, MI5 denies all knowledge of them and delete all records of their existence. The 'Ghost' agents are rumoured to be some of the best in the world."  
  
Vaughn had started to pace up and down whilst he was talking. Weiss was worried for his friend. He was on the brink of loosing it completely. Weiss could only hoped that he could help him hold on.  
  
"Ten out of ten. We have reason to believe that they're sending a 'Ghost' here."  
  
Vaughn stopped suddenly and snapped his head towards Weiss.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"In exchange for their Intel, their agent is coming with us. MI6 is still pissed that we let Derevko get away, so they're sending an agent to 'eliminate' the problem."  
  
"They're having Derevko assassinated?" Vaughn asked surprised.  
  
Weiss nodded in answer.  
  
"Suppose I can't blame them. So when is this agent arriving?"  
  
Weiss ran a hand awkwardly through his hair and sighed. He handed Vaughn a file, which he quickly flicked through.  
  
"All we know is that their agent is arriving here on flight 647 from Boston this afternoon. And that their code name is 'Arch Angel'."  
  
"So how will we know which passenger is our man?"  
  
"Their agent will set off a metal detector whilst passing through. They will complain about the same thing happening in Zurich. That's our cue to collect them. We will ask them 'how's the weather in London?'. If they reply 'Not bad for the time of year. It was minus 1 last week', then that's out 'Ghost'." Weiss explained.  
  
Vaughn sat down in a chair and reread the file. Maybe this was the breakthrough he was looking for. Maybe this MI6 'Ghost' would lead him to Sydney and Kate. His hope was coming back, he just prayed that he wouldn't be let down again.  
  
"Well then," Vaughn announced after a couple of minutes, breaking the silence, "We better be heading over to the airport. We've got a 'Ghost' to catch."  
  
A/N: What do you think? You know the drill by now, reviews please :o) 


	10. The Barred Window

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: I hopefully wasn't too long updating this. Thanks for all of you who are bearing with me and who reviewed. Dream Writer 4 Life, miss.pebbles and Agent 13, you guys rock!! Thanks as well to my betta Dream Writer 4 Life. Any way, enough of this mindless ramberling and on with the next chapter. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
She sat staring at the barred window. This was something she did most days. She would just stare at it for hours, thinking, plotting. And she would often try to escape. She never got very far before she was dragged back, but it didn't stop her from trying. Her number of attempts had become less and less over the years, but she hadn't given up yet. As long as she was still kept there she would never give up. Those were probably the things he admired most about his sister: her hope and determination.  
  
She didn't turn when the door opened and Sark entered the room carrying a tray of food; she kept on looking straight ahead. He knew that she was aware that someone was in the room with her. He knew that she had probably guessed that it was him. And she knew what his return meant. But she continued to stare at the window, ignoring what was going on around her, pretending to be deaf and blind to the world. He placed the tray down on the table.  
  
"I've brought your lunch."  
  
Again she didn't look. Sark sighed and poured wine into the two glasses. He didn't know why he had bothered saying that; it wasn't as if he was expecting her to thank him. But he always insisted on bringing her meals to her when he was around. She despised him at first, swearing and attacking him, but over time she'd warmed to him. Sometimes they would talk about things, making up for all the years they were separated. Forming a 'normal' brother and sister relationship. It hurt now when she blanked him. But he didn't let it show.  
  
"She's here isn't she?" Sydney asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"Yes. She's safe. She's staying at my home for now."  
  
Sydney laughed bitterly and shook her head slightly. She still refused to look at him.  
  
"How could she possible be safe when she's in the same country as our mother, let alone 10 miles away?"  
  
"What other choice did I have? If I hadn't brought her here, then someone else would have. And Irin-our mother would have had me killed. Probably you as well," Sark replied simply, taking a sip of wine.  
  
These words caused Sydney to look at him. "But if there was a chance that Kate would still be free and safe, wouldn't it be worth it?" She asked him. "I know I would be willing to risk it. Wouldn't you?"  
  
Sark said nothing. Instead he looked away and sipped more of his wine.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry. I forgot. Mr Sark doesn't care about anyone but himself," She mocked. "He has no life, no feelings, no emotions. He's just a cold- blooded murderer."  
  
These words hit a nerve. Sark spun around to face her, his mask betraying him and letting his rage show.  
  
"Do you think that I wanted this life? Do you think that I used to dream of killing people as a boy? DO YOU?" He demanded, his voice and eyes burning. "I had a life once. I had a future once. I had everything once. I was going to have a life with Siobhan..."  
  
He cut himself off, regretting the words, which had just left his mouth. He looked away again, forcing himself to regain control, to lock up his emotions again. Sydney stared at him in shock. After all these years she'd known him, she'd never seen him loose control before. She'd never been able to penetrate his armour before. She'd never seen him show raw emotion. She'd never seen him look so, so human.  
  
"Who's Siobhan?" She asked gently.  
  
"You better eat your lunch before it gets cold," Sark replied flatly.  
  
"Liam, who's Siobhan?" She tried again.  
  
He looked at her. She hardly ever used his first name. It was a word that was alien leaving her lips. But his face was a perfect mask again. No emotions showing. Sydney let out a sigh. She'd lost her chance.  
  
"You'll be seeing Kate again, when Ir-our mother decides that it's time," He informed her.  
  
He then finished the last of his wine and turned to leave.  
  
"Liam?" She called after him.  
  
He stopped halfway out the door and looked at her. A question was forming on her lips, but the words wouldn't come out. He gave her a knowing look, shook his head slightly, as if in answer, and left. He pulled the heavy oak door shut behind him and locked it again.  
  
Sydney went back to staring at her barred window. Another thought was added to her list of things on her mind. Her new thought was Siobhan.  
  
A/N: What do you? Come on. You know you want to the hit that button, so give in and do it!!! 


	11. New Surroundings

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Sorry I took so long updating again. Hopefully, I won't be as long with the next chapter. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter; Non- fruity jelly beans and Dream Writer 4 Life. Please keep them coming. And thanks as usual to my wonderful beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Well here the next chapter. R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex  
  
Kate woke to find herself lying in a comfortable, large double bed. Confusion took hold of her mind as she thought about the last thing she remembered. She didn't remember falling asleep (but obviously she must have) and someone must have carried her to this room and tucked her in. She was still dressed in the same clothes. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and tucked a loose strand behind her ear.  
  
Her head snapped towards the door when she heard it open. She watched as a women entered. The women was in her early 30s with long, honey blonde hair and cloudy blue eyes. She was carrying some towels, which she placed down on a chair, then smiled brightly at Kate when she saw that she was awake. She then said something to Kate.  
  
Kate recognised it as Russian, but could only understand a few words. She stared at the women blankly.  
  
"Sorry," The women apologised in perfect English. "I shouldn't have presumed that you could understand Russian."  
  
"I can a bit," Kate confessed. "I suppose it's going to be getting better."  
  
The woman's smile faded into a look of sympathy. She stared at Kate for a couple of minutes, then walked over to the cupboard and took out some fresh clothes. She placed them down on the end of the bed.  
  
"My name is Natalya Arkov. I'm Mr. Sark's maid," She introduced.  
  
"Where is he?" Kate asked.  
  
"Mr. Sark is with Miss Derevko. He'll be back later. In the interim, he's left me in charge of looking after you. I'll be looking after you as long as you're here. If you need anything, feel free to ask. Do you want anything to eat? Drink? You must be starving."  
  
Kate studied her carefully. She seemed genuine enough, but looks could be deceptive; she only had to think painfully about 'Emma' to be reminded of that. Kate didn't know how long she would be here and her uncle seemed to trust her, so she decided to give Natalya a chance.  
  
"Yes, I am," Kate replied with a small smile, but her guard was still up.  
  
"Well if you quickly get changed into these clothes," Natalya patted the clothes, "I'll take you to the kitchen. And I'll wash the clothes you're wearing for you too."  
  
Kate slid out of bed and quickly changed her clothes. Natalya picked up the pile of dirty ones and smiled warmly.  
  
"You better follow me."  
  
She hesitated, but followed Natalya down the maze of corridors. It was only now that Kate was beginning to get an idea of just how big the house was. Natalya led her down a narrow flight of stairs and through a door at the end of the hall, which lead into the kitchen. The kitchen was large and modern, almost out of place in the old house. There was a table and stools near the middle.  
  
"Sit down." Natalya indicated to the stools. "I'll be back in a moment."  
  
Kate watched her walk into the connecting room and come back without the laundry. She smiled brightly at Kate.  
  
"So what do you want? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?"  
  
"Tea would be great," Kate replied.  
  
"And do you want something to eat? I made a really nice chocolate cake yesterday. Have no idea why I bothered: Mr. Sark doesn't really like sweet things."  
  
"Sure, thanks."  
  
Natalya stared to brew the tea. She knew where everything was from memory and Kate watched her intently, curious about how long she'd been working here. She wondered if Natalya would be able to answer some of her questions.  
  
Just then a young man walked in. He was tall with tick black hair and dark, thoughtful eyes. He had a rifle over one arm and his uniform indicated that he was a guard. A smile touched his lips when he saw Natalya.  
  
He said something to Natalya in Russian and she smiled back at him. She picked up an apple and threw it at him, which he caught perfectly.  
  
They carried on talking in Russian until the guard caught sight of Kate. He looked her up and down quickly, taking her in and gave her a curious smile. Natalya caught his look and cleared her throat.  
  
"Miss Vaughn, I want you to meet Nikoli, a guard here," Natalya introduced. "Nikoli, this is Miss Vaughn, Mr. Sark's niece."  
  
She emphasized the last part, but Nikoli didn't seem to notice. Nikoli smiled at Kate and walked over. He extended his arm, as if he was inviting her to a handshake, but instead he reached behind her ear. Then he pulled it back to reveal a red rose. Nikoli offered it to Kate and his smile widened when she blushed slightly as she took it. He leaned in closer; now she got a better look at him. He was very handsome, his hair slightly tousled and he had a slight shadow of stubble on his face. She didn't think he looked any older then 22.  
  
"Welcome to Russia, Miss Vaughn," He greeted softly, his voice soaking in his Russian accent. Nikoli then nodded slightly in goodbye and walked out of the kitchen. Kate watched him go, delicately stroking the petals of the rose.  
  
"Here you go, Miss," Natalya said breaking her daze, as she placed the tea and cake down in front of her.  
  
"Thanks," Kate replied, taking a sip. "Natalya?" Kate asked after a few moments. "How many guards are there here?"  
  
"All depends on how many are needed, Miss," Natalya shrugged as she prepared another dish.  
  
"What about the one with the scarred face?" Kate asked not sure if she wanted to know the answer.  
  
"Oh that would be Mr. Kyi. He's here quite often."  
  
Did Kate imagine it or did a ghost of a smile appear on Natalya's lips when she said his name? She quickly brushed it aside. Natalya seemed too nice to like or have anything to do with a man like Kyi.  
  
"Oh, and Natalya?"  
  
"Yes Miss?"  
  
"Please stop calling me Miss or Miss Vaughn. The formal stuff just creeps me out. Kate's fine," Kate insisted.  
  
"Alright, Kate." Natalya smiled.  
  
The dish she was preparing - which turned out to be lasagne - was complete so Natalya placed it in the oven and set it ready for cooking. Out of habit, she wiped her hand on the apron she was wearing, took it off and hung it on a hook. By then Kate had finished her food and drink and was now shuffling uneasily on her stool as she waited.  
  
"Well, I've got a bit of sewing to do, but I could do it whilst you watched a film or something?" Natalya suggested.  
  
"Sure," Kate agreed.  
  
Natalya picked up a basket full of clothes and a sewing kit. She led Kate out of the kitchen, down another corridor and into another room. It was filled with modern furniture, a large television with DVD rack standing next to it and a large fireplace. In one corner stood a liquor cabernet with a wine glass waiting on top of it. Natalya indicated for Kate to choose a film as she sat down and began to mend a shirt. Kate scanned the selection of films and was surprised at some titles.  
  
"'Some Like It Hot', one of my favourite. I wouldn't have taken my uncle as a Monroe fan," She commented.  
  
"He's not. He got it for you," Natalya said, not looking up from her sewing.  
  
Kate stared at her. She wondered how long her uncle had known that she would be coming here. Did he know when she first met him? Natalya seemed to preoccupied to offer an answer, so Kate put on the film and sat down to watch it. Only half of her mind was concentrating on it; the other was plagued with thoughts, searching for answers.  
  
Finally the credits appeared on the screen. Natalya suddenly stood up when she head the front door open. She rushed over to the drinking cabinet, poured a glass of wine and carried it out of the room. Kate watched her go, curious about who had arrived. She got her answer a few moments later when she heard faint voices travelling down the corridor.  
  
"Evening sir," Natalya greeted.  
  
"Evening Natalya," Sark replied. "Thank you. How's Kate?"  
  
"She's doing all right. Poor thing, this must be hard for her. How was your day sir?"  
  
Kate heard her uncle let out a small groan. Their voices and footsteps were getting closer all the time.  
  
"Don't get me started. I saw Sydney and, believe me, she wasn't happy to see me. I don't blame her. She would hit the roof if she found out what Irina's demanding."  
  
"What is Miss Derevko demanding?"  
  
"That she meets Kate tomorrow."  
  
Kate felt her blood run cold. The women who she hated more then anything in the world was demanding to meet her. She listened more intently in fearful curiosity as the voices came closer.  
  
"She's coming over here for dinner tomorrow and she wants Kate to be there. I don't think Kate's ready to meet her. Personally, I never wanted Kate to ever meet-" His voice trailed off when he saw Kate staring at them as they entered the room.  
  
They both stopped dead and an awkward silence settled as they stared at each other. Natalya cleared her throat to break it.  
  
"I'm...I'm just going to finish off making dinner," She announced quickly and left.  
  
Sark and Kate continued to stare at each other until Sark finally broke eye contact. He downed the last of his wine and crossed the room to fill up his empty glass.  
  
"My grandmother wants to meet me tomorrow?" She asked, her voice shaking slightly with fear.  
  
"Yes," He answered after a pause. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I don't want to see her," Kate shouted. "Tell her that. I'd rather die then meet the bitch who destroyed my family and my life."  
  
Sark's head snapped towards her at this sudden out burst. All of Kate's fear had disappeared to be replaced by pure rage. This wasn't the Kate he knew.  
  
"God, do you think I would be forcing you if it was that simple?" He snapped.  
  
Kate's face changed to a hurt look, almost as if he had slapped her; the scared and confused little girl was back. Sark's face softened and he walked over. He sat down next to her, though it stung when she flinched back slightly.  
  
"Kate..." He began softly.  
  
"Dinner's ready," Natalya informed as she entered the room, cutting him off.  
  
"I'm not hungry," Kate lied and stood up.  
  
"Kate, you have to eat," Sark insisted, also standing up.  
  
"I'm not hungry," Kate repeated firmly, cutting off his protests.  
  
"Alright. I'll show you back to your room. And if you get hungry later I'll fetch you some food," Natalya suggested.  
  
Sark didn't say anything. He just slumped back down and sipped his wine. Kate wasn't sure what he was feeling, as he face was masked again. She watched him sadly, almost guiltily, as she followed Natalya out of the room.  
  
They walked in absolute silence until they reached her room. Natalya stopped and turned to face her. She placed a hand gently on Kate's shoulder.  
  
"Your Uncle loves you, you know. This hasn't been easy on him either. He never wanted you to be brought here. You need to trust him and be a bit easier on him. Can you do that? I want to be your friend, Kate. Please believe that and let me. I'm going to look after you no matter what," Natalya told her, then squeezed her arm gently. "If you need anything then my room is down that corridor, turn left and it's the first door on the right. 'Night Kate."  
  
And with that she left. Kate entered the room, not bothering to turn on the light. She didn't even bother to change or wash. Instead she just lay down on the bed, two single tears falling down her face, as she begged the darkness to wake her up from this nightmare.  
  
A/N: What you think? That's button's waiting to be hit, so go on! What are you waiting for? 


	12. The Ghost

Disclaimer: Don't own.  
  
A/N: Hey I'm back again. I got no reviews last chapter, so I hope people are still reading this. Please drop me a line if you are. Hopefully I won't be too long updating the next chapter. Well thanks as usual to my beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Well please R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
All that there was left to do now was to wait. Flight 647 from Boston had landed 10 minutes ago. Now all Vaughn and Weiss had to do was sit near the metal detector - which had been set up - and wait for the signal.  
  
The business passengers were the first to pass through: a number of men and women dressed in smart suits and carrying briefcases. Not a single one of them set off the alarm. Then there were some elderly couples and a few families and, like Vaughn suspected, they didn't set off the machine either. Then came the odd couple and solo passengers. Surely one of them was their agent.  
  
A girl caught Vaughn's attention. She was very hard to miss. The girl had bright red dreadlocks, icy blue eyes, and a number of piercing in her ears and a ring through her lip. She wore dark purple baggy cords and a blue and black baggy sweater. And when she walked through the machine, the alarms blared.  
  
"Oh bloody hell!" She swore in a tick Australian accent. "God, not again. This happened to me last time I was Zurich."  
  
'Bingo,' Vaughn thought, 'That's our cue.'  
  
He was a little surprise to find a MI6 agent looking so feral, but he guessed that anyone hunting a MI6 'Ghost' wouldn't have suspected her either. He and Weiss walked over to metal detector.  
  
"Hey! Watch where you put those hands!" She snapped at the security guard.  
  
"Excuse me miss?" Weiss asked.  
  
"Tanya. Tanya Moore," She replied, glaring at the duo.  
  
"Miss Moore, would you please come with us?"  
  
"Please don't tell me that you also think my bum's so big that I'm hiding crack in my pants?" She groaned as they lead her away.  
  
They marched in silence until they were out of the earshot of the other passengers.  
  
"So how's the weather in London?" Vaughn asked the code question.  
  
"Not bad for the time of year. It was minus one last week," She replied, her Aussie accent had disappeared to be replaced by a British one.  
  
"Arch Angel I presumed?"  
  
She nodded, "That's me. And you must be the agents the CIA sent to pick me up."  
  
"That's right. I'm Agent Eric Weiss and this is Agent Michael Vaughn," Weiss introduced them.  
  
"It's nice to meet you."  
  
"Tanya Moore isn't your real name is it?" Weiss asked.  
  
"It might be, it might not be. But you gonna have to call me by it, because I'm not giving you another name," She replied flashing them a brilliant smile.  
  
****  
  
When they reached the CIA building, Tanya requested to use the bathroom. They escorted her to the bathrooms on the third floor and waited by the door for her to come out. She emerged a few minutes later; now she was dressed in a navy business suit and pastel blue shirt. Her heavy make-up had been removed and replaced with a more natural look. Also she now had long blond hair, though Vaughn couldn't tell if it was natural or another wig, but her eyes had remained blue.  
  
Tanya's smile widened when she saw Weiss's approving look and gave them a quick spin.  
  
"I think this is more appropriate, don't you agree?" She asked.  
  
Weiss gave her a helpless nod, causing her smile to spread further. They lead her off to Vaughn's office  
  
"Take a seat," Vaughn offered as he and Weiss sat down. "First, I should apologise for Mr. Devlin. He's on a trip and can't be here," He informed her. "So he left me in charge of this negotiation."  
  
"Alright," She agreed. "My government terms are simple. In exchange for our information, I must come with you to find Irina Derevko and I must be allowed to terminate her."  
  
"The U.S. government agrees with those terms. But I still need clarification that you are who you say you are. Can you give me your agent ID please?" Vaughn ordered.  
  
"GHO-24513-9267," She recited from heart.  
  
Weiss type it into the computer. After a few moments passed, the words 'Agent Number Confirmed' appeared on the screen. Vaughn quickly read the profile:  
  
Agent ID: GHO-24513-9267  
  
Alias: Classified.  
  
Codename: Arch Angel.  
  
Weiss clicked on the 'More Details' button, but the machine beeped angrily and the words 'Access Denied' appeared in large red letters. He let out a small gasp of shock as an animated fish started to swim up and down the screen. Tanya looked over the screen, saw this and forced herself to suppress a giggle.  
  
"Click on the trout," She instructed.  
  
"Huh?" Vaughn and Weiss asked in unison.  
  
"The fish on the screen, click on it."  
  
He did as he was instructed and an image of a man connected to a live video feed filled the screen. He had short spiky ginger hair and a pale boyish face. Two squared, black-rimmed glasses framed his concentrating grey eyes.  
  
"Finally! Took you long enough," He sighed, then he saw Tanya and smiled. "Hey Arch Angel. Good to see you again. Are you going introduce your new friends?"  
  
"Sure. This is Agent Michael Vaughn and Agent Eric Weiss," She pointed to them in turn. "Guys, this is Trout."  
  
"Trout?" Weiss repeated dumbly.  
  
"Travis Richard Owen Ulysses Trent," Trout explained then shrugged. "My parents had a weird sense of humour."  
  
"Trout, as we call him, is our leading tech guy. Probably one of the best in the world," Tanya added.  
  
"Aw, you're making me blush," Trout muttered with false shyness.  
  
Tanya laughed, looking completely at ease. Vaughn was shocked at what the MI6 tech guy was like. A part of him had always believed that all tech guys would be a clone of Marshal. But this guy didn't look a thing like him. Even his dress was 'hip' and fashionable. He wondered for a moment how much of a social life Trout had.  
  
"Okay Arch Angel and CIA agents, let us get down to business. Do we agree with the terms?" Trout asked.  
  
"The CIA agrees," Vaughn confirmed.  
  
"Good. Arch Angel, you understand you mission?"  
  
"Yes. Terminate Irina Derevko."  
  
"Good. And remember..." He began, but Tanya cut across.  
  
"I am a ghost. A shadow. I have no past, present, or future. No emotions. If I am captured or killed, any records of my existence will be erased and the British government will deny all knowledge of me. I am no one," She finished, reciting the words she knew by heart.  
  
"Remember that. I'm transferring our intel over now," Trout informed them. "And Arch Angel, don't turn this into a personal vendetta. Don't make this about him."  
  
Vaughn's eyes flickered between the two MI6 agents. Both were holding the other's steady gaze, both unreadable. He wondered what Trout was talking about. Tanya said nothing; instead she gave Trout a sharp nod to show she understood.  
  
"Ok. Good luck Agent Vaughn, Agent Weiss," He wished them giving them a nod. "Arch Angel," His tone softened, "Come back alive."  
  
A/N: What do you think? I know you have your opinions and I want to hear them, so just hit that little button now. :o) 


	13. The Secrets Drawings Hide

Disclaimer: I still don't own this :o(  
  
A/N: Hi again. I tried to update sooner, but it wouldn't let me :o( Oh well, hopefully I'll be updating this more regularly now. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: Mandi, Christy and Dream Writer 4 Life. And as usual, thanks to my beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Anyway, on with the plot. R&R and Enjoy!! - Bex  
  
Kate didn't get much sleep that night. Her mind was too restless, plagued with fear, dread and regret, to rest. And the few hours' sleep that she had was filled with a new nightmare. The flames has disappeared now to be replaced by something that scared her even more: the 'what if' her future held.  
  
Her uncle had left by the time she'd woken. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes to discover a breakfast tray sitting on the dressing table and some fresh clothes at the end of her bed; Natalya must have placed them there. Kate changed into the clothes, grateful for the warmness. She didn't bother to brush her tangled hair; instead she ran her hand through it in a feeble attempt to control it. She sat down in front of the food, but poked at it more then ate it.  
  
Then, as if taking a cue, Natalya entered. She smiled warmly at Kate and then set about straightening the bed.  
  
"Morning Kate. How was your sleep?" She asked carefully.  
  
"Alright," Kate shrugged.  
  
"I'll show you around the house after you've finished eating."  
  
"I'm finished," Kate announced, placing down her spoon.  
  
"But you've hardly eaten anything," Natalya argued. "You have to eat, Kate."  
  
Kate picked up a slice of toast, took a bite and placed it back down again as if to say "there". Natalya sighed and shook her head slightly. "You're just as stubborn as your mother."  
  
Kate sat up straighter at these words and stared intensely at Natalya.  
  
"You've met my mother?"  
  
"Of course I have. Mr. Sark had her staying here for a while when she was first brought here. Miss Derevko didn't like it, but she doesn't like anything anyone else does, especially if it involves using a heart," Natalya spat bitterly. Kate was shocked by the sudden change in character, but it retuned back to normal when she continued.  
  
"You're mother was - still is - a fighter. I remember that she tried to escape seven times in the first month alone. She was hateful and upset in the beginning. Refused to talk to anyone and when she did it was cold and harsh. But she let her defences down slightly when she realised that Mr Sark was trying to help her as much as he could in the situation. I used to spend most of my free time talking to her or playing cards with her. She always talked about you and your father, telling me hundreds of stories about you both."  
  
Kate's face was filled with a bittersweet expression. She was curious to know what her mother had said and what she was like now, but her heart stung with sadness knowing how many years they'd lost together. Then there was still the fear that she might still not be allowed to see her. That even though they were so close now, she was still out of her reach.  
  
"What kind of things did she tell you about?" Kate asked, eyes fixed on Natalya.  
  
"All sorts of stories. Like the time you were five and the three of you had gone to the park. Then all of a sudden, you disappeared. Your parents searched frantically for 15 minutes before they found you sitting under a tree, nursing an injured bird in you hands. But they couldn't be mad at you, because you told them that you were looking after it for they had taught you that all life was precious and should be persevered."  
  
"I remember," Kate said softly. "We looked after that bird 'til it was better. I cried so much when we had to let it go, but then my dad told me that it knew how much I love it and it loved me just as much back."  
  
She felt her eyes prick with tears at the memory of the normal family they had once been. Natalya noticed this, so she walked over and squeezed her hand gently.  
  
"From what you mother told me, I can tell that she is so proud of you," She told her. "And she loves you more then anything else in the world."  
  
She paused, allowing time for these words to comfort Kate, "We better get a move on."  
  
For the next hour, Kate was lead down endless corridors and stairs, and shown so many rooms that she lost count. Some of them were used and others were filled with discarded items. She prayed that she would never get lost here or she might stay that way.  
  
"I need to be getting back to work," Natalya informed her. "But don't worry, I've saved the best 'til last. I'm sure you'll find plenty to do here and won't get bored."  
  
She pushed open the two heavy wooden doors in front of her, which groaned as they awoke from their slumber. Kate followed her in and let out a small gasp as she took in the room. It was gigantic library filled with rows upon rows of bookcases, crammed full with books that were begging to be read. A part of her mind tried to figure out if she'd even seen this many books together at the same time before, while another was overloaded with excitement. As much as it made her feel like a geek to admit it, she adored reading and devoured every book she could lay her hands on. To her, this was her idea of heaven.  
  
Natalya caught her look and couldn't help but smirk. "So you're happy for me to leave you here?" She asked, Kate's nod causing her to chuckle. "I'll come and get you later. If you need me, just come to the kitchen." And with that she left.  
  
Kate wandered down the rows of books, her hand itching to reach out and read one. She realised that they had been arranged alphabetically in English by the author's surname, then divided into the different languages. Many of the books weren't in English and instead were filled with pages written in foreign tongues such as Russian, French, German, Chinese and many more.  
  
She was half way down a row when a book caught her eye. It was hidden among the others and if she hadn't been paying attention, she would have missed it all together. Upon removing it from the shelf, she found out that it was nothing really special. The covers were bound with black leather and were wordless.  
  
'Curious,' She thought to herself, 'There's no title or anything to tell me what it's about.'  
  
Gently she opened the front cover. One inside page had been inscribed with a message in beautiful flowing handwriting:  
  
Liam,  
I want you to keep this with you always. So that even when you're miles away from home, this will remind you of home and the people that love you.  
  
All my love for always,  
S  
-x-  
  
The message aroused more curiosity in Kate's mind and she eagerly flicked to the next page, and then the next. Each page was filled with exquisite drawings of landscapes, buildings and people. The buildings and landscapes seemed to be from the same area, around a small country village. And sometimes, along with the drawing, there was a small caption underneath.  
  
Kate continued to study each picture after the next, fascinated by what this book had to reveal. Then she stopped. It was a picture of her uncle- who she guessed was no older then her at that time- and the mysterious girl from the photo she saw on the plane. He had his arms wrapped securely around her waist, their cheeks touching and smiles lighting up their features. Then something caught her eye. She looked closer at the girl's hand to see that there was a delicate gold ring with a glinting emerald on her finger. But more importantly, it was her engagement finger.  
  
'What does this mean?' Kate asked herself as she tried to piece the puzzle together.  
  
"Now what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"  
  
The voice behind her caused Kate to jump. She spun round to face the speaker, shutting the book as she went. Standing behind her was Nikoli wearing a highly amused grin on his face.  
  
"I didn't scare you did I, miss?" He asked with a teasing tone.  
  
"No. Well, maybe a little. I didn't think anyone else was in here," She admitted, then glared at him slightly with a questioning look. "What are you doing in here?"  
  
"It's freezing outside, so I came in to warm up. Anyway, I like it in here. I love to read," He responded and then eyed the book in her hands. "What one have you got there?"  
  
"Oh," Kate opened it so he could see the drawings. "It's filled with these. I'm not sure who drew them or where it came from."  
  
"I've never seen it before," Nikoli commented, studying the picture then looking up to meet her eyes.  
  
Kate was about to tell him how she thought it belonged to her uncle, but someone got there first.  
  
"What the hell are you doing in here?"  
  
The both quickly turned round to be greeted with Kyi's eyes, which were just as heated as his tone. He glared at the pair, then fixed his eyes on Nikoli as he began to shout at him in Russian. The few words that Kate could translate made her realise that Kyi was shouting at him for being inside instead of on guard duty. When he finished, Nikoli gave him an abrupt nod, exchanged a sideways smile with Kate, and then hurried out of the library.  
  
Kyi then turned his flaming eyes on her. She felt the familiar fear she felt around him gripping her. "Why are you not in your room?" He demanded.  
  
"Nat.Natalya brought me here.and.and said I could stay," Kate tried desperately not to stutter and let her fear show.  
  
"Well, I'm taking you back to your room and you are going to stay there."  
  
She clutched the book tightly to her chest, as he marched her back down the corridors and up the stairs 'til they reached her room. He slammed the door roughly behind her after she'd entered.  
  
But all thought and fear of him left her mind as they were replaced by the unanswered questions the book stirred. She flicked through the pages; painstakingly studying the pictures that filled them, like an archaeologist studding a treasure from long ago. Trying to discover the secrets it held.  
  
A/N: What do you think? Go on. Give in and hit that button now! :o) 


	14. Trapped By Fate

Disclaimer: I don't own this.  
  
A/N: Hey. Sorry I was a bit long updating. I had course work, then my internet connection messed up :o( So sorry. Please keep the reviews coming in. I love hearing what you guys think. As usual thanks to my wonderful beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Well, on with the plot. R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex  
  
She was still so engrossed in the drawings that she didn't even hear the knock the first time. It wasn't until the person repeated this action - only louder this time - did her head snap up and face the door. "Yes?" She called cautiously, nervous about whom it might be. The last thing she wanted was another encounter with Kyi.  
  
The doorknob turned and she was relived to see only Natalya entering. The maid carried a tray of sandwiches and a drink. Hanging over one of her extended arms were folded clothes. "Thank god you're in here," She sighed in relief. "I was worried when I couldn't find you in the library, but I ran into Mr. Kyi and he told me what happened. I'm sorry about him, but Mr. Kyi is." She paused as she tried to pick the right word, "Well, Mr. Kyi!"  
  
She shrugged as if to say that there really was no other way to explain it and set the tray down on the dressing table. "Sorry there's not much food, but you're having a big meal tonight," Natalya apologised and placed the clothes neatly down on the bed.  
  
Kate felt her fear grip her again as she grimly remembered what was happening tonight. The fact that she was going to be forced to have dinner with the one person she hated the most in the world. "Are those clothes for tonight?" Kate asked, not entirely sure if wanted to know the answer.  
  
Natalya gave her a sad nod. "I'm sorry."  
  
Moving over to where they lay in a tidy pile, Kate slowly picked up the clothes and inspected them wearily. It was a knee-length black skirt and a beautiful red lace top, perfect for important occasions; and under any other circumstances Kate would have been happy to wear them. She placed them back down, not caring if the got crumpled. Her eyes looked up to meet Natalya's look of sympathy. "I'm sorry Kate, but there's no other choice. I'll be back in a few hours to help you get ready," She stated. "Oh, and I brought you something in case you get bored."  
  
She pulled a well-read book out of her apron pocket and extended it to Kate. Timidly, Kate took it and flipped it over so she could read the cover. "Great Expectations is a personal favourite of mine," Natalya explained. "Thought that you might want to read it."  
  
Turning, she began to head towards the door, but Kate called her back; "Natalya?" Natalya turned back round to face her with a questioning smile. "Thanks," Kate finished quietly. Natalya gave her a nod of understanding, then left her alone once more with her thoughts.  
  
Kate put down the book and stared at the food. Being reminded of tonight put her off eating, but her baby didn't share those feelings. Slowly, Kate forced herself to nibble the food.  
  
Looking up into the mirror, she realised that silent tears had crept down her face again. She brushed them roughly away and stared at her gaunt features. Why her? Why her child? What was it that made her family so significant to Rambaldi? How she loathed that man and his stupid prophecies.  
  
"It's not fair," She whispered to her reflection, more tears staining her face. She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and told herself to snap out of it. Running a hand through her unruly hair, Kate decided that she might as well have a shower.  
  
The hot water poured over her skin. She closed her eyes, wishing that the water would wash her troubles away as well. She stood under the shower until the water turned icy cold, forcing her to get out. With a towel wrapped around her, she walked over to the foreboding clothes and gradually slipped them on.  
  
The book sat on the table tempting her to examine the pictures once again. Giving into the lure, Kate sat down and delicately opened the book.  
  
She looked carefully at a picture of a young girl frozen half way through a dance and dressed in a black and emerald dress. The outfit reminded her of the costumes she'd seen from 'The Riverdance'. The picture was set at some sort of carnival, which a held a large crowd of people there to watch. She read the caption at the bottom that was written in the same elegant handwriting as the beginning: 'Isabelle when she won her dance competition.'  
  
Kate wondered if this was where her uncle had grown up, if this book held the key to his secretive past. Along with the pictures of her uncle when he was younger and the mysterious girl from his photo, there was another woman who appeared a number of times. She had curly, peppery-brown hair that reached just past her shoulders, hundreds of freckles speckled across her face and kind brown eyes. Kate had discovered from one of the captions that her name was Kathleen. Kathleen turned up in a number of times with her uncle; sometimes embracing him like a mother would her child.  
  
There was a knock at the door, followed once more by Natalya. "I'm here to help you finish off getting ready," She smiled. She picked up a brush and began to smoothly pull it through Kate's hair. After it was free from tangles, Natalya began to braid it into a neat French-plat. The book on the table caught her eye. "What's that Kate?"  
  
"I'm not really sure myself," Kate responded simply. "Natalya, how much do you know about my uncle?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Like what has he told you about his past? Or things he likes?"  
  
Natalya chuckled, "Mr. Sark is not a very open person. He trusts me more then most people, that's true, but he's still as much as a mystery to me as he is you. You probably know more then me and I've been working for him for about 15 years now."  
  
She finished the braid and tied a black band around it to hold it in place. Then she crossed over to the fireplace and began to light the wood in it. Kate watched her and decided that if she couldn't rid herself of her curiosity about her uncle, then she would try to rid herself of the questions about Natalya.  
  
"Natalya?"  
  
"Yes Kate?"  
  
"How did you end up with this life?" Kate inquired carefully. "With this job?"  
  
Natalya prodded the fire with the poker, not turning once to look at Kate as she answered, "My Kyi's father was in the same line of work as he is now. He found me working as a low-paid waitress in a cheap bar. He offered to train me as a spy but," She paused as if uncomfortable at the memory, "I could never take another life. So I learned to be a maid and here I am."  
  
"What about you family?"  
  
Natalya's hand froze and her posture stiffened. "I don't have any. I'm an orphan. Abandoned actually. Apparently I wasn't the only child my mother dumped."  
  
Kate felt a great swell of pity for her. She could tell that Natalya was upset by the memory, for the usual cheery twinkle in her eye had vanished. "Have you every tried to find any of your family?"  
  
"Why?" Natalya demanded, poking the flames violently. "They never wanted to find me, so why should I want to find them?"  
  
Kate was taken aback by the sudden change: almost as if it were another person. She heard the loathing, anger and hatred in Natalya's voice - something she thought the maid wasn't capable of. The usual kindness and gentleness in her features had vanished. Her eyes flickered eerily with the flames in the fireplace. Just like Kyi's did in her dream. This person scared Kate.  
  
And as quickly as she had come, she disappeared once again. Natalya's rage quelled and she turned to Kate with pleading eyes. "Promise me that no matter what happens, even if you get away from here, you'll not give up your child for adoption," She begged.  
  
"I promise," Kate agreed and placed a hand on her stomach as if to seal the promise.  
  
Natalya's smile returned, but faded again when she saw the clock. "I need to bring you downstairs now Kate," She informed her dejectedly.  
  
Kate's eyes flickered wildly from her to the clock. Her fear and dread were rising again, holding her in a tight grasp as Natalya helped her to her feet and led her to the dining room.  
  
Sark was waiting for them outside the room. His grim mask was blemished with sympathy when he lay eyes on Kate. Natalya took her to him then gave Sark a quick nodded and left. Uncle and niece stood there in thick silence for a few dragging minutes. Neither of them dared to speak. Neither one of them knew what to say.  
  
"She's in there, isn't she?" Kate's restrained voice broke the silence. He just gave her a curt nod. She wanted to beg him not to make her go through with this, not to force her to see that woman. But she knew it would be worthless; both of them had been robbed of choice along time ago.  
  
"We need to go in now," He told her in a hushed tone, but the stillness made it sound louder.  
  
She managed a feeble nod and he placed a hand on her back to guide her in - partly for comfort and partly to stop her from running away. They walked through the timber door and she froze as her eyes meet the cold orbs belonging to the lady sitting at the table. Her stomach knotted as Irina's twisted smile appeared on her face and she inspected her granddaughter up close for the first time. Kate felt claustrophobic, as her fear trapped herself in her own skin. Her mind screamed at her to turn and run, but terror rooted her to the spot.  
  
Sark nudged her gently to bring her back to him. She looked into his eyes and that gave her the strength to move and sit down in her chair. Her uncle then moved to his place at the opposite side of the table. Kate eyes were fixed on Irina in dreaded anticipation. This was it: there was no turning back now.  
  
Natalya entered carrying plates of rice, lamb and vegetables and started to hand them out. Kate noticed that her eyes darkened into a deadly glare when she gave Irina her food, but Irina was too busy staring at Kate to notice this.  
  
"You can go now," Irina dismissed her abruptly. Natalya nodded politely, but stole another icy glance in her direction before she exited.  
  
"Kate," Irina addressed her, her unfeeling smile widening, "I've been waiting for this moment for such a long time now. Over 18 years to be precise."  
  
Kate felt sick. But something else was stirring in her senses. Something powerful. She let her fear recede and her rage engulf her once again. Her hatred and loathing made a fire run through her blood. She was no longer afraid.  
  
"Where's my mother?" She demanded frostily.  
  
"Kate." Sark warned, but she cut across him.  
  
"WHERE IS SHE?"  
  
Irina looked amused at this outburst, which only fuelled Kate's rage more.  
  
"She's safe Kate, don't you worry. But it's you we here to talk about. Such a great thing you are carrying. Your child will bring greatness."  
  
"No!" Kate snapped. "You're just going to use my child for your own gain, no one else's. You're going to yet again destroy another human's life just like you did my uncle, my parents and my own. You selfish bitch. I hate you."  
  
Irina's smile vanished; her eyes began to darken in warning. Kate's furry blinded her from seeing the warning sign but Sark spotted it instantly. He knew he needed to stop her before she went to far. "Kate," He warned louder this time.  
  
"No. I would be quiet. Don't you understand? I hate her. I HATE HER. She's a pathetic excuse for a human being and destroys everything she touches."  
  
"That's enough," Irina boomed and fixed her menacing glare on Kate. Kate's rage backed down, letting her fear take over again. "I will not be spoken to like that. Get one thing straight now, Kate, you have no choice. No options. You haven't since the day you were born. And nor will your child. The prophecy rules our life and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make it come true. I don't care about the consequences achieving this will have. You can't escape. You'll never be able to escape. You're trapped wherever you are and no matter where you go."  
  
Kate's anxiety began to choke her, stopping her breathing any oxygen in. Her eyes began to flood with tears. All of her emotions collided together, mixing up one with the next, causing her head to swim. She rushed to her feet and ran out of the room as fast as her legs would let her.  
  
Sark abruptly stood up to follower her. "Don't Sark," Irina ordered, but he ignored her.  
  
"Kate? Kate?" He called down the empty corridor, his mask betraying him and letting the fear his heart felt for her show.  
  
Kate somehow in her confusion ended up back at her room. She rushed through the door, letting it slam behind her and curled up in a tight ball on the bed. Her cascade of tears blinded her vision and she sobbed loudly into the silent darkness. She had lost the only thing she had left: her hope.  
  
Kate felt the cool metal of the necklace her uncle had given her brush again her neck. She grated the small cross tightly in her hand, the points digging into her palm. And for the first time in her life, she prayed to who ever was listening to save her from this fate. She stayed like this for what seemed like an eternity, until she'd cried herself to sleep.  
  
Sark gently opened the door a few hours later, careful not to make a sound. He crossed over to the chair in the room and sat there watching Kate in tormented thoughts. She shifted restlessly, her face twisted in false pain. There was only one person in the world that he hated more then his mother: himself.  
  
She twisted violently again in her restless sleep. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What had he done? What was he to do? Kate then began to mutter something in her sleep; quietly at first, but then the muttering grew more intense.  
  
"Questa donna qui rappresentata possederà i contrassegni unseen. I segni che sarà quella producono i miei impianti. Leghili con furia, una rabbia burning a meno che evitato a costo che vulgar questa donna renderà l'alimentazione più grande unto il desolation assoluto."  
  
He froze. Two things that distressed his mind; first: he didn't know that Kate knew any Italian and second: she had just repeated the prophecy written on page 47.  
  
"Non può riuscire senza la chiave," She mumbled suddenly. "I scopre la chiave. Devo proteggere la chiave da lei. Non deve guadagnare la chiave."  
  
'She can not succeed without The Key. I bear The Key. I must protect The Key from her. She must not gain The Key.'  
  
Sark rushed over as Kate's movement turned more and more violent, struggling with the quilt around her. "Kate," He whispered urgently, gently stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her. "Kate wake up. Kate!"  
  
She twisted out of his grip. She let out a sudden gasp and bolted upright, her panicked eyes wide open. Kate looked at her uncle and her uncontrollable tears took over again. Sark pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.  
  
"Sh. It's all right Kate. It's all right. It was just a dream," He soothed. "Only a dream."  
  
"I don't want to be here anymore," She confessed through her sobs. "I can't do this anymore. I just want to go home."  
  
His heart tightened and he held her closer. He had promised himself that he would never let Irina ruin her life like she did his. But instead of doing that, he'd helped her succeed. He was disgusted at himself, at what he'd become. But what other choice did he have? Were there any?  
  
A/N: What do you think? Go on; hit that little button NOW!! 


	15. The Truth From A Liar

Disclaimer: Same as before.  
  
A/N: Hello again. Well my play's almost finished and school will be over soon, so hopefully that'll mean I'll have more time on my hands. Thanks to all of you who reviewed my last chapter: Dream Writer 4 Life and jhfortier. Please keep them coming for they are much appreciated. Also thanks as usual to my beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Well, on with the next chapter. R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex  
  
He couldn't sleep. At least not now: hundreds of feet above the ocean, surrounded by other agents, and eyes having to adjust to the dim light of the CIA plane. And soon to be ever closer to finding his daughter and wife that he yearned for. Vaughn wouldn't have been able to get some rest even if he wanted to.  
  
Deciding to leave Weiss snoring gently in the seat next to him, he started to walk slowly down the aisle. He glanced at the other agents asleep around him; 10 good men - fully armed, fully briefed and ready for what was to come. But a small light near the front of the plane illuminated the spot where the only female sat. The most important agent out of them all.  
  
The light shining above her guided Vaughn closer. He looked over the back of her seat, surprised that she didn't turn around like he expected her to. He watched in fascination as she continued to draw in a sketchpad that lay open on her lap. Her hand guided the pencil along the paper as fluidly as a dance's movements, leaving fine graphite lines trailing along behind. Her hand captured every detail of - what he realised then to be - a park in L.A. "It's an excellent drawing," He stated, causing her to jump.  
  
Tanya slammed the pad shut as she spun to face him. Her eyes were wide, all systems on full alert. Her guard relaxed when she saw it was him. "Oh, so it is possible to scare a Ghost?" He smiled in mild amusement.  
  
"Who said I was a Ghost?" She challenged him. "Who said they even existed?"  
  
"I think your conversation with Trout confirmed that they do," He pointed out.  
  
"Ah, but they were just words Agent Vaughn. Some words have more than one meaning. They may have even been metaphors. All you know for sure is that I work for MI6 and I am going to assassinate Irina Derevko." She smiled triumphantly when she realised that he didn't have a comeback. "But words and names can also be put there for irony or an inside joke," She added.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"You know over in American your citizens call FBI agents Feds." He nodded and she carried on, "Well in England, MI5 agents are known as Spooks. It would be amusing if we had Ghosts as well."  
  
Vaughn chuckled at this and sat down in the seat next to her. She intrigued him; the whole idea of the Ghosts intrigued him. Were the agents trained like another 'Project Christmas' or did MI6 just find them? Or did they find MI6? How were they chosen? And how could anyone choose to live such a life? He decided that he might as well make an attempt to quell his curiosity. "Can I have a look at that?" He asked indicating to her sketchpad.  
  
"Why?" She questioned protectively. "Many people can draw, so it's nothing special."  
  
"Yes, but many people aren't as talented as you."  
  
She considered his request then handed the pad over. "Just remember, Agent Vaughn, flattery will get you nowhere."  
  
"Then why are you letting me look?"  
  
"Because you asked so nicely."  
  
He returned her smile, then turned his attention to her sketchpad. He studied the drawings that filled it. Every one was a detailed picture of different locations around the world - some he recognised and some he didn't - but there were never any writing to say when or where it was drawn. "Are these all the place you've been to?"  
  
Tanya paused for a moment as she thought over just how much she should reveal. Then she nodded. "I draw a picture of something important and significant to that nation every time I visit the country. I don't have a passport to remind me, so instead I have this."  
  
Turning the page, he realised the next picture was of the river Thames in London and the Houses of Parliament beyond it. "Do you live in London?"  
  
She paused again. Her whole life was made up of lies and secrets. She knew she had to be cautious with her answers. "Yes."  
  
She paused then pointed to the picture on the opposite page. "This is Oxford Street," She informed him as he stared at the wide road surrounded by shops. "It's famous for being the place to shop. Every Christmas, thousands of people go there. They literally take up the whole road. You're basically shoulder-to-shoulder with the shopper next to you as you battle along. It's definitely an experience, one I think your daughter would love to have."  
  
Vaughn turned to stare at her intensely. He hadn't mentioned anything about his personal life, let alone his daughter to her. She studied his expression then her face filled with an understanding look. "I got Trout to do a background check on you and Weiss. I know all about your daughter and wife, also what has happened to them. I'm surprised that the CIA are letting you head this operation seeing as you probably want revenge," Tanya commented.  
  
Vaughn felt a spark of anger fill him and his eyes narrowed into a glare. "From what I gathered from yours and Trout's conversation, this is revenge for you as well," He snapped back. "So why is MI6 letting you come?"  
  
Her soft expression remained on her face as she paused in thought. "I'm not meant to tell you this," She confessed, "but a year ago, Derevko found three of our agents in Iraq. Two men, codenamed Philostrate and Antony, and a woman, codenamed Cleopatra. The men were killed instantly, but Cleopatra was tortured for two days until she took her cyanide capsule, loyal to our country 'til the end. When you're a - belong to my section, your fellow agents are your family. They don't know your real name or background or history, but they know less lies then everyone else. It would have been revenge for any of us." Her smile had disappeared and she turned her sad eyes away from Vaughn's gaze.  
  
"Then why do you do it?" He questioned. "Why did you choose this life?"  
  
She turned back. "I lost someone. Someone I loved very much."  
  
Vaughn suddenly remembered her conversation with Trout. How he told her not to turn the mission into a personal vendetta. Not to make it about 'him'. "Did Irina Derevko kill him?"  
  
She didn't respond. Instead she took back her sketchpad and continued to work on her picture. Vaughn guessed that she'd decided that she had already revealed too much. He watched her again as she worked; questions about her still nagged at him but he ignored them.  
  
A necklace fell out from Tanya's collar as she leaned forwards. It was a simple silver cross. "Is your codename an inside joke?" Vaughn inquired when he saw the necklace. Tanya gave him a puzzled look until he pointed at her cross. "Or is another part of your alias?"  
  
She smiled faintly. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you that."  
  
A thin smile graced his lips in return and he ran a tired hand through his hair. He let her complete her drawing - amazed by how detailed and realistic it was - then decided he better learn what intel she knew. "So who is this contact we're going to see?" He asked.  
  
"He's not exactly a contact," She responded. "More of a lead."  
  
She pulled down her table, placed her laptop on top and switched it on. After it had loaded up, she clicked on a file labelled 'Artic Fox'.  
  
"This is Stephan Gaarder," She informed Vaughn, pointing to the picture of the man on the screen. "He's 32, was born in Norway and is a total sleazebag. He runs a strip club in, strangely enough, Archangel, but owns several warehouses near the port. One of our agents in the area took these photos." She clicked with the mouse and two new photos filled half the screen each. Both had Gaarder in, and the man in the one on the left Vaughn recognised instantly.  
  
"Mr. Kyi," He muttered darkly. "Who's the woman?" He pointed to the second photo that showed Gaarder talking to a woman with blond hair.  
  
"We're not sure. We're almost certain that she works for Derevko though."  
  
"How are you planning to get information out of Gaarder?"  
  
"Oh, I have my ways. Me and Stephan go way back, but he knows me under the alias of Alyssa Cain."  
  
"So what, you're planning to bribe him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"With what?"  
  
Tanya looked at him meeting his eyes. She held his gaze; her face was covered by a professional and ready look.  
  
"With his life."  
  
****  
  
The faulty sign still struggled to flash the Russian words that translate into English as 'Girls, Girls, Girls!' - money in any language. Inside the strip joint a haze of smoke lingered in every corner, which made eyes stream after 40 minutes of exposure. Dim lights hid the customers' faces, but the bright stage lights showed off the girls as they caressed the pole, dancing sinuously to the music.  
  
Stephan Gaarder sat back, relaxing in the VIP booth with a martini in his hand, watching his merchandise. He smiled as his eyes greedily watched his employees doing their job. One of his men walked over, bent down and whispered in his ear, "Sorry to bother you sir, but there's a pretty little thing in your office wanting a screen test."  
  
Gaarder sighed as if it bothered him and threw his man a sinful smile. "It's so hard sometimes being in charge!"  
  
His bouncer chuckled and Gaarder walked off towards his office grinning like a Cheshire cat. He walked through the door to be greeted by the top of a woman's ebony hair sitting in the chair in front of his, her back towards him.  
  
"I hear you want to work here," He said to the girl in Russian. "Well you'll have to show me what you've got first, 'cause I've got to know if you're good enough."  
  
"Well I was last time," the girl replied sweetly in English. The chair slowly spun round revealing long black hair with bright red tips, chocolate coloured eyes and wicked smile that Gaarder knew too well.  
  
"Alyssa!" He yelped, trying to back away. But before he could reach the door, it was slammed shut behind him and two men grabbed his arms. He looked wildly at them both; the man on his right had blond hair and the other, brown - both of them gripped his arms securely, preventing his escape. He gulped and looked at the woman. "Hey Al-Alyssa. L-long time no see."  
  
"You look surprised to see me Stephan. Didn't you expect me to return after you sent those men after me?" Tanya asked, her tone remaining friendly and innocent the whole time.  
  
"I swear Alyssa, I didn't know that they wanted to hurt you. Honest," Gaarder lied trying his best to sound convincing, but failing miserably.  
  
"And the fact that one of them ordered the others to 'kill the bitch' didn't give it away?"  
  
He shrugged, his whole body shaking like a jelly. "I was born in Oslo, my Russian's never been that great."  
  
In a split second: Tanya crossed over, grabbed him by the back of the neck, swung him around and slammed his head against the desk. He whimpered as she pressed his head down against the hard wood. "You know those men did teach me some interesting torture techniques though. Would you like me to demonstrate?" Tanya whispered harshly and applied more pressure.  
  
"Please Alyssa," Gaarder begged, "I'll do anything."  
  
"Anything?"  
  
"Anything," He yelled and she lessened the force she was applying to his skull.  
  
"What do you know about Irina Derevko's whereabouts?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
Tanya slammed his head violently back down and he howled in pain. "All right. All right. I admit I know who you mean," He confessed. "But I've gotten out of that business. I'm living a straight life now."  
  
Vaughn and Weiss, the only other people there, let out bitter laughs in dismay and shook their heads in disgust - how could a man who ran a strip club be 'living a straight life'? It surprised Vaughn just how strong and aggressive Arch Angel could be. Her face was set in an expression he'd only every seen on Jack Bristow: free from all emotions, but dangerous and professional.  
  
"You're wasting my time Stephan," She told him in a singsong voice. "And wasting my time means that your time is quickly running out. Stop messing me about. I have pictures of you doing business with Mr. Kyi and blond lady who works for Derevko. What have you been doing for her?"  
  
"I let her store things she imports in my warehouse," He wailed. "Don't know what. It's not wise to ask. I just get paid every month when they collect it."  
  
Tanya stopped forcing his cranium into the solid desk and relaxed her hand so he could raise his head a few centimetres. He gasped heavily, breathing in air desperately. His face was red from where Tanya's hand had been and where it had been squashed against the wood.  
  
"Who's the blond lady that works for Irina?" Vaughn demanded.  
  
"That's Natalya Arkov. She's Mr. Sark's maid. For some reason, I don't know why, he sometimes sends her here to pay me. Cute thing though; wouldn't blame him if he was getting some extra service on the side."  
  
Tanya kicked him brutally in the back of the knees causing them to buckle and smack his head against the table again. Vaughn saw unexplainable anger burning in her eyes. "Stick to the point," She warned through clenched teeth.  
  
"Okay. Okay."  
  
"So where's Derevko?"  
  
"I don't - AWWWW!" He screamed as Tanya squished his skull back into the table once more. " I can't tell you! She'll kill me!"  
  
"And what do you think I'm about to do?"  
  
"All right! ALL RIGHT! There's a map in my safe. The combination is 57-26- 84. I've marked on where her and Sark are."  
  
Weiss crossed over to the safe and unlocked it. He pulled out a map and held it up for the others to see. "That's it," Gaarder cried.  
  
"And it has the locations on it?" Tanya checked.  
  
"Yes. I swear."  
  
She let go of his head and he straightened up. He rubbed his sore head gingerly as he began to shake once more with panic. "Oh god! Irina's gonna kill me when she finds out. She gonna kill me! Oh god! Oh god!!"  
  
"Don't worry Gaarder, we're going to have two CIA agents take you to a safe house and protect you there," Tanya informed him, addressing him in the same tone you would use on a three-year-old child.  
  
"Yeah?" He repeated hopefully.  
  
"Yeah," She mocked. "And if it turns out that you're lying to us, then they'll kill you instead."  
  
Shock took over Gaarder's face and he open his mouth wide like a fish to speak, but before he could Tanya had hit him around the back of his head, knocking him unconscious.  
  
She took the map from Weiss and unrolled it on the desk. "Lets just hope the little weasel's telling the truth," She mumbled as she inspected it with the others, "'Cause it's the only lead I've got."  
  
A/n: What do you think? The only way I'm gonna know is by you telling me, so hit that button NOW!!! :o) 


	16. Shattering The Mask

Disclaimer: Hasn't changed.  
  
A/N: Hey. Hope I wasn't too long updating this. Finally my play's over and apart from a few minor set backs (such as one of cast taking 'break-a-leg' a little too literally!) it went really well. And thank God it's over. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: Dream Writer 4 Life, Kayar and Tasha. Please keep them coming, 'cause they mean a lot to me. I love to know what you think and your opinions. Thanks as usual to my wonderful beta Dream Writer 4 Life: and, if you haven't already, check out her Alias fic 'Seventeen Again' - you'll be very deprived if you don't read it! Well R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
The wooden door opened silently and he entered the room with the tray in his hands. He placed it down on the table and poured himself a glass of wine from the half-empty bottle. She still hadn't looked at him. Her eyes were fixed on the window, totally absorbed in her own world, as she gazed at the snow-covered ground outside. 'Has she even realised I'm here?' He wondered as he took his first sip out of his glass, and then poured a glass for her.  
  
"What wine is it this time?" Sydney asked, her gaze not leaving the window.  
  
"Chateau Bellerive," Sark replied simply. "Life's too sort for bad wine."  
  
"So what's bothering you?" She inquired, but still she didn't look at him.  
  
"What makes you think that something is bothering me?" He demanded.  
  
"Remember, my dear brother, I've been stuck here for 10 years. I've learned a thing or two about your habits. It's only 12:30 and yet you've already drunk half a bottle of wine, which is unusual even for you," She stated.  
  
"It's a Chateau Bellerive," He restated. With a passive glance at his glass he added dryly, "Almost too good not to drink."  
  
"And you're early. You never come here until it's evening, unless our mother has done something to piss you off or you've got something on your mind," She pointed out, then finally turned to look at him. "Care to share?"  
  
He averted his gaze and hid his face behind his wine glass. "There is nothing to share." He could faintly hear her sigh of frustration. Sark imagined that she would go back to staring out the window, but - to his surprise - when he turned around she was picking her glass off the table.  
  
She swirled the liquid around in the glass, smelled and then sipped it like a professional. "Good wine," She agreed. She continued to swirl it absentmindedly as she thought about something. "You drink too much, but I've only seen you drink wine. Don't you drink anything else?"  
  
"I used to drink beer," He informed her, "But only Guinness, none of the American stuff. The Irish knew how to make decent beer. And Kathleen - I've told you about her haven't I?"  
  
"Kathleen O'Rourke, right? The woman who raised you?"  
  
He nodded. "She loved Baileys. Used to let me have some once in a while, usually put a nip of it in my hot chocolate in winter." A tiny smile that was alien to his lips formed on his face as the conversation stirred old memories. "I only had wine on special occasions; half a glass with the Sunday roast, at Christmas and Easter. Also Kathleen used to make mulled wine for when we came back from the carol service on Christmas Eve."  
  
His smile faded and he took a generous swig of the wine. Sydney watched him, curious by the small change to his personality that was so out of character for the person she knew. She paused in thought then decided to try again to break though his armour. "Why don't you call yourself Liam O'Rourke anymore? Why Sark?" She questioned.  
  
He looked hesitant, even unnerved, though he tried his best to disguise it. Sydney knew that if she didn't pursue her question she'd loose any chance she had to understand what had turned him into Sark. "You know everything about my life. I think I deserve to know a bit more about yours."  
  
Sark sat down and ran a hand through his blond hair. He'd never been a very open person; only one person had ever possessed the gift to make him open up. Even the thought of the memories pained him - part of him wanting to open up and release some of the grief. To get everything off his chest and make her understand what made him this way. But that would require letting down defences; something he just couldn't do.  
  
"It's a long story - " He began, but she cut him off.  
  
"I've got plenty of time," She pointed at the barred window. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Sighing again, he emptied his glass. He stood up to pour another, but her words made him freeze: "It has something to do with Siobhan doesn't it?"  
  
Sark spun and stared at her. To hear that name always made his heart ache and he couldn't stop the glimmer of pain appearing in his eyes. The same pain that mirrored the one she felt from the year of being separated from her husband and child. She gave him an understanding look. Sydney took his glass from him, filled it up again and handed it back. "Please Liam, I want to understand," She pleaded.  
  
He slumped back down on to the couch and she joined him. "I don't know where to start," He confessed.  
  
"How about at the beginning?" She suggested. "How about with Liam O'Rourke?"  
  
He laughed bitterly; "Liam O'Rourke is dead. His life was just a lie. He died when he was only a few hours old, three weeks before my birth. Irina ditched me on his mother, Kathleen, and she raised me like the son she'd lost. For 15 year I lived his life. I lived a lie. As far as I was concerned, my parents were Kathleen and the late Seamus O'Rourke and Ir - our - Irina was just my aunt."  
  
He looked away, disgraced at the emotions that were filling his voice. Feelings that had been long forgotten and buried. But he'd opened a floodgate now; there was no way he could stop now.  
  
"But I was happy. I loved Kathleen as if she was my mother. She tried to raise me the best she could, giving me a proper Christian upbringing, but I was always an unbeliever. The only reason I ever went to church was because Siobhan O'Brian asked me to. She was the priest's eldest daughter. Father Patrick O'Brian's wife died soon after giving birth to their other daughter, Isabelle, and Kathleen helped the family anyway she could. So I grew up with Siobhan and I fell hopelessly in love with her. And she felt the same way back -"  
  
He broke off and quickly drank some wine. The memories were already stabbing at his tortured soul. He felt Sydney grasp his hand and squeeze it gently. He returned he gesture, grateful for the comfort and strength.  
  
"I was told the truth about Irina on my 15th birthday. I was - I felt too many emotions to describe it. Kathleen begged me to keep it a secret, but I told Siobhan. And she understood perfectly. Irina ordered that I was to start my training, and when I turned 18, she insisted that I study at Oxford University. I didn't want to leave my home, but I had no choice. So I proposed to Siobhan and we promised that we'd marry on my return. Neither her father nor our mother was happy about it. Our mother because she doesn't own a heart and Father Patrick because - well I never really knew if he would have disliked me more if I was a Catholic rather then the atheist I am. But then -" Sark sighed and looked down at the floor. He didn't want to remember the memory that was the reason behind his torment.  
  
"But what?" Sydney pressed, desperate to make him finish. "What happened?"  
  
"I went to England, where I was trained whilst I studied. I hated it. I used to constantly write to Siobhan and Kathleen, and they would reply as quickly as they could. But in my final year the letters ceased to come. Then on the day before my graduation I finally received a letter. It was from Siobhan, calling off the engagement and announcing that she was to marry someone else." Rage and sorrow filled his voice as he relived the moment that devastated him inside his head.  
  
"Irina ordered me to go with her and not back to Ireland after my graduation, but I had to go back. I had to know what happened. I had to fight for Siobhan. But I arrived back to find that everything had changed. Irina had faked my death and stopped my letters from reaching home, making everyone believe I had died in a car crash a year ago. Kathleen had died - some said of a broken heart - and to the world so had Liam O'Rourke. The good person Siobhan had made me had been killed by Irina and in his place was Mr. Sark."  
  
"What happened to Siobhan?" Sydney asked gently, feeling her heart swell with pity for her brother.  
  
"Last I heard, her father had arranged for her to marry a man called Dermot Finnegan. I knew him. He was in love with her as well, and I guess it comforted me slightly to know that he would take good care of her and give her the normal life she deserved." But even though he said these words, he didn't sound able to even convince himself, let alone Sydney.  
  
She stared at her brother, for the first time seeing him in new light. For the first time being able to start to understand him. And one thought that ran though her mind explained the reason why he'd opened up perfectly: 'He really must be drunk.'  
  
"I don't think that Liam O'Rourke is as dead as you claim," His sister stated. Sark looked up at her in confusion. "When you talk about what you used to be like - your old life with Siobhan and even Kate - I see him. I see his caring heart and kind soul," She explained. "He's not dead, just trapped."  
  
"Either way he's gone," Sark muttered in reply and walked away.  
  
"So what, you're just going to let Irina destroy Kate's life like she did yours and mine?" She snapped. "Let her rob Kate of the ones she loves and Kate's child as well?"  
  
His jaw tightened. She'd hit a nerve and she knew it. "If you care as much for Kate as you claim you do, you'll help me," She added.  
  
"Help you do what?"  
  
Sydney looked him directly in the eye. Somehow, she'd managed to remove the mask only Siobhan had ever succeeded to do. He was her only chance and he knew it. "Escape."  
  
"There's no point," He stated vacantly.  
  
"There is one when there's a chance," She retorted but he continued towards the door. "Liam, if you're not going to do this for me or Kate then do it for Siobhan." He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at her. "Please Liam, do it for her."  
  
A/N: Well what do you think? Paths will be colliding soon (that's all I'm giving away!) So if you want to find out what happens next, you're just gonna have to review. So hit that button NOW! :o) 


	17. Bringing Back Hope

Disclaimer: Still don't own!  
  
A/N: Hey all. Sorry about the bit of wait, but thankfully school is over now (Yay!) so I actually have free time on my hands (a word I thought I'd never hear.) Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: pizza and Dream Writer 4 Life. You guys are great and please keep the reviews coming. Also special thanks as usual to my wonderful beta Dream Writer 4 Life. Well on with the plot. R&R and ENJOY!! - Bex  
  
Joseph Shukhov stared more at the clock than the screens he was meant to be monitoring. It was 8:30 PM and - unlike the others guards in the house who were eating supper - he was stuck in the surveillance room. His stomach groaned and twisted in hunger. He rubbed it and his eyes flickered back to the clock. 'Only half an hour to go,' He thought in relief. 'Then someone else will take over this bitch of a duty and I can get something to eat.' These thoughts caused a thin smile to grace his face and it gave him the incentive to go back to watching the black and white pictures from the CCTV cameras.  
  
His wandering orbs stopped on the screen in the left hand corner. He stared intently at the female prisoner it was focused on. It had been an hour since Mr Sark had brought her dinner to her, and yet it had hardly been touched. He'd watched her nibble at it, but mainly prodded it aimlessly with her fork. And now she sat back down in front of it again to repeat the process. 'Great! Another boring night watch. Why doesn't anything interesting every happen?'  
  
And as if in reply, he saw her eyes widen as violent silent coughs erupted from her mouth. She clasped her hand around her throat and carried on spluttering - though there weren't any mikes in the room for him to hear it. But one thing was clear: she was choking.  
  
"Oh shit!" He swore under his breath in Russian. He urgently reached out and smacked the red panic button. Nothing. "Shit! Shit!" He continued to rapidly strike the switch in desperation. It wasn't working. How was he going to alert anyone to what was happening?  
  
His dilated eyes whipped back to the screen. She had collapsed now and if he didn't do something soon then she would suffocate. He wasn't supposed to leave his position, but Irina would have him shot for sure if she died. What was he going to do?  
  
Joseph weighed up his options and made his decision. He dashed away from his post and sprinted down the corridor. After skidding around the corner, he yanked his set keys out and fumbled to fit the right one into the lock. Finally, one of them clicked; quickly he turned it and shoved the door open. In his panic he forgot to lock the door again, instead he only rushed to the body lying on the floor. He shouted at her in Russian - knowing full well that she understood it, for she constantly swore at him in it - feeling his heartbeat increasing when she remained unmoving. If she was dead, then soon Irina would make sure he joined her. Joseph knelt down beside her to feel for a pulse.  
  
Before he knew what was happening; her fist came flying off the ground and collided with his face, the impact causing his neck to snap back. Then as quick as a flash, she was on her feet and gave a violent sidekick to his abdomen, followed by an accurate round house kick, causing him to completely lose his balance. He fell backwards, cracking his head against the table as he went.  
  
Sydney walked over and checked that he was out cold, before touching her ear to switch on her earpiece. "Leprechaun, this is Jailbird. Do you copy? Over."  
  
She heard a soft chuckle from the other end and could picture him shaking his head slightly. "I copy Jailbird," Her brother replied. "Who came up with 'Leprechaun' anyway?"  
  
She shrugged even though he couldn't see her. "Your Irish."  
  
"Well then, maybe we should have called you 'Yank-"  
  
"Look Sark, this is not the time to go into this," She snapped, cringing when she'd realised she called him Sark.  
  
There was a slight pause of awkward silence before he answered: "Is the guard unconscious?" His tone was emotionless again.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Tie him up in case he comes round," He instructed.  
  
"I'm one step ahead of you," She retorted as she ripped a sheet from her bed into strips to restrain him with. "Tied and gagged," She announced when she'd finished.  
  
"Good. I've hacked into the surveillance systems and interrupted the feed, so you won't get caught by any CCTV cameras. You know where you need to go?"  
  
"Yes. I memorised your instructions before I ate the note."  
  
"Maybe you should have eaten some of you food as well, paper isn't that filling," He commented snidely.  
  
"Look we don't ha-"  
  
"Alright Jailbird. We've got to go radio silent to reduce the chance of them discovering you've escaped, so you're on your own for the next part. And remember, even though the majority of the guards are eating, there are still three who are guarding the perimeter. Be careful," He warned.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Going radio silent. Oh and Jailbird," Sark sounded awkward.  
  
"Yes Leprechaun?"  
  
"Good luck," He wished quietly before the radio went dead.  
  
Sydney paused for a moment before switching off her earpiece. She slipped on the dark sweater and pants she'd hidden under her bed then dragged the guard onto the bed and covered him with a sheet so it would resemble her asleep. She stopped in the doorway to look back at her prison for the past decade one last time, before she flickered off the lights and locked the door behind her. The cage finally had a new prisoner.  
  
She blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hall. For the last ten years the only places she'd seen were the two bedrooms she'd been kept in and the dinning room where she'd been forced to have a meal in the presence of Irina - though that had been ceased after Sydney's last attempt to strangle her. It amazed her just how large this place really was and she prayed that she wouldn't get lost. 'First left,' She remembered the instructions as she turned the corner.  
  
For minutes that seemed to her like hours Sydney wandered down the dark corridors and along winding staircases, mentally following the guide given by her brother.  
  
Suddenly, she froze. Footsteps echoed down the corridor towards her from somewhere further on. She waited with baited breath 'til they faded away, exhaling with relief when they no longer could be heard. She was not going to be caught again. There was no way she was ever going to be shut back up.  
  
She finished creeping along the corridor till she reached the door at the end. 'This is it,' She thought to herself, then cautiously turned the handle.  
  
The knob groaned slightly as it was forced from years of sleep. Quickly, she slid into the room and gently closed the door behind her. The room was filled with forgotten relics; some covered with moth-eaten cloths, but all coated in layers of dust from neglect. She sprinted to the large wooden framed window at the far end and used her weight to force it open. Then she climbed onto the windowsill.  
  
The harsh Russian wind battered against her exposed skin and caused her eyes to water. She squinted as she looked down at the dark world below her. She was two-stories above the ground; the lake that ran adjacent to the mansion was only metres away. The surface of the lake had once been iced over; but someone had cracked it, so it now lay in thousand of fragmented pieces. If she didn't make it she would be dead. Or worse: she'd been dragged back to her prison.  
  
After one last scan of the area for guards, she inhaled deeply and jumped. She fell through the air and plummeted feet first into the freezing water. She gasped and spluttered as she began to tread water, her system in shock from the sudden change in temperature. And then she began to swim. The ice- cold water slapped against her, chilling every part it touched, but she would not let the cold slow her. Not when she was so close. Her determination burned through her insides granting her the warmth she needed to complete her task.  
  
She dragged herself onto the bank, then struggled through the hole at the bottom of the metal chain-link fence. She stood in between the trees on the other side - shivering violently from head to toe - waiting for her signal.  
  
Headlights appeared in two short flashes at the roadside in front of her. She rushed over and the back car door opened, as she got closer. She climbed in and smiled feebly at her brother. "What took you so long?" He demanded with a smirk.  
  
She glared. "I h - had t- to avoid being cau- caught and swim th- through a goddamn fre- freezing lake first. T- THAT'S A - ALL!" She snapped back, just managing to force out the words between her chattering teeth.  
  
His smirk didn't change at her out burst; if anything it widened slightly. He reached across to the front passenger seat and pulled a towel and some dry clothes off it, then handed them to her. "Thanks," She muttered.  
  
"Keep you head down whilst we're travelling. We don't want you to be seen," He ordered and she nodded. "Well, phase one is complete. Now let's move on to phase two." He turned the key in the ignition and the car sprung into life. Then Sark turned round to speak to his sister one last time before heading off along the isolated road: "Let's get Kate back."  
  
She returned his smile. "Let's get her back."  
  
A/N: What do you think? I know you have an opinion waiting to be shared, so go on and share it. I'm waiting, lol! :o) 


	18. Removing The Shackles

Disclaimer: Still no closer to owning this.  
  
A/N: Sorry I took so long updating, but I went off to Austria for two weeks and also I've been trying to get through a heap of course work before the new school year starts. Thanks for all who reviewed the last chapter: raina Elizibeth and Dream Writer 4 Life. Reviews mean a lot, so please keep them coming. Also special thanks as usual to my wonderful beta, Dream Writer 4 Life. Well on with the plot. R&R and Enjoy!! - Bex  
  
She sat staring aimlessly through the glass at the bleak white snow that hugged the ground outside. Bleak like her future. Bleak like her life. Irina had ordered that she should remain confined to her room, but the bolted door changed nothing; knowledge of what fate held for her trapped her in a cage, which - no matter where she went - she could never escape. Bound by unseen shackles weighing her down.  
  
The meals came as usual, but she didn't even glance at them, let alone eat. Her hair clung to her face in mattered tangles that tumbled rebelliously down. Her face remained expressionless, untouched by emotions; almost resembling a living corpse. But it wasn't she who was dead: it was her faith. The cross still clung to her neck, but its shine had faded. Just like the last of her hope that used to gleam in her eyes, now snuffed out, allowing the darkness to close in.  
  
And as the darkness consumed the last struggling rays of light outside, she let herself fall backwards on the bed, curling up into a tight ball and hugging her knees to her chest in hope of feeble comfort. She lay there perfectly still until sleep finally found her, supplying restless dreams.  
  
Her gentle rhythmic breathing was suddenly interrupted and her emerald eyes shot wide open. She tried desperately to scream, but the noise that fled her lips was stifled by the palm clamped around her mouth. The pressure of the hand pinned her head to the pillow.  
  
Kate began to struggle, until Natalya's face appeared in front of her eyes with a finger raised to her lips in signal for her to remain silent. Kate nodded in understanding and Natalya removed her hand from her mouth. The fragmented moonlight that had forced itself into the room made the maid's skin glow an eerie white. Kate watched in confusion as she made her way over to the grand wardrobe and pull out a black pair of pants, along with a dark top and black fleece jacket. "Put them on," She ordered in a whisper so quiet that Kate could barely hear it as she handed them to her.  
  
Kate did as she was told, watching Natalya out of the corner of her eye as she pulled another set of clothes out and shoved them hurriedly into a small leather bag that she was carrying. "Natalya," Kate said a little too loudly and the maid shot her a warning glance. She swallowed and lowered her voice before continuing, "What's going on?"  
  
"We're getting out of here," She announced in the same hushed tone as before. "Now, I already have a change of clothes and some food and water for both of us in here." She patted the leather bag. "Is there anything else of importance that we need? Remember that we need to travel light."  
  
Without a second thought, Kate grabbed the mysterious book from the library from where it lay on the bedside table. Natalya eyed the book hesitantly, then looked up into Kate's pleading expression. "Please. Trust me it's important," Kate begged.  
  
After a short pause, Natalya gave in and reluctantly opened the bag to allow Kate to place the book in. Kate smiled gratefully at her as Natalya swung the bag onto her back. "Do you know European Sign Language?" Natalya inquired urgently.  
  
Kate shook her head. "No, but I can lip read."  
  
Natalya gave a relieved nod. "Good. As soon as I open that door there must be absolute silence," She commanded. "Most of the guards are eating, but there are still a few on watch. The only way we're getting out of here is by not being caught. Just follow me, stay silent and if you need to speak to me: mouth. Understand?"  
  
"I understand," Kate confirmed. Natalya loosely grabbed her forearm and led her to the door. She held up her hand in a silent order to wait and gently opened the door. After cautiously checking the corridor, she pressed her finger to her lips and nodded at Kate to follow.  
  
Something about the combination of the pitch-black night outside and the disjointed moonlight that cast looming shadows against the walls made the mansion seem even more sinister than in daytime. The silence that filled ever corner like gas was worse: it was so quiet that it screamed. Without realising it, Kate held her breath 'til her lungs gasped for oxygen as she warily followed Natalya, her footsteps as soft as feathers falling to the ground.  
  
It must have been from years of staying here; but the maid had somehow memorised the right pathway through the labyrinth of halls, knowing every complicated twist and turn by heart. Even thought Kate had faith in where she was being guided, she couldn't help but think, 'What if we get caught? What then?'  
  
Her heart pounded rapidly as one of her worse fears came true: they'd reached a dead end. All that lay at the bottom of the corridor was a large intricately-woven tapestry almost covering the entire wall. She was just about to seize Natalya's arm and ask her what they were going to do when her guide carried on walking up to the wall. The maid lifted up a corner and slid behind, vanishing. Kate sprinted up and had to suppress a startled gasp when Natalya's head popped around the side of the wall hanging. "Come on. Follow me and keep up." She mouthed slowly and disappeared behind the material again.  
  
Kate copied her actions and to her surprise found herself in a hidden passage, at the end of which was a winding staircase. The steps spiralled downwards, until they finally stopped beside a worn oak door. Natalya removed a set of keys from the bag and unlocked the door with a hushed click.  
  
They stepped into the next room that turned out - to Kate's relief - to be the laundry. Chattering flittered in from the adjacent kitchen and Natalya watched the guards who were stealing extra food from the cupboards through a crack in the wall. After what seemed like hours - but couldn't have been more then five minutes - they left. The pair seized their chance; dashing over to the back kitchen door and out into the freezing night.  
  
The snow crunched under Kate's feet; it was the only thing she could make out in the weak light. It spread across the ground like a glittering blanket that stretched for miles. Yet Natalya still knew where to go.  
  
Finally they reached the high metal fence that marked the boundaries. A fresh hole had been cut out at the bottom and the two women crawled through, one after the other. Now they stood in the thick forest, planted especially to keep people out. "We can talk now," Natalya announced in a whisper. "But we must keep our noise to a minimum."  
  
Kate nodded. "Natalya, how are we going to get out of here?"  
  
A cryptic smile graced the lady's face. "Don't you worry about a thing, miss; it's all sorted." And with that, she began to walk off again as Kate trudged along behind. After battling for a time through the overgrown branches, the wood finally began less dense. And right before them stood a car.  
  
The door opened and Kate was shocked when Nikoli got out. He smiled mysteriously at her and began to speak to Natalya in Russia. He placed the bag in the trunk and turned his attention to Kate. "Your chariot awaits," He quipped and gained a small smile from Kate.  
  
"Thank you, Nikoli," Natalya said as she embraced him.  
  
Then it was Kate's turn. The hug started out awkwardly, but soon she relaxed. They broke apart and he swept a renegade piece of hair behind her ear. "Maybe one day we'll meet again," He whispered.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"It was nice to meet you, Miss Vaughn." Nikoli smiled bitter-sweetly and held the door opened for her. Natalya and she slid inside and he shut the door behind. "Good luck," He wished them before Natalya turned on the ignition and they zoomed off.  
  
Kate watched the shrubbery scrape across the windows as they travelled along a bumpy mud track. She let her head loll against the headrest and somehow sleep claimed her once more.  
  
Her eyes opened with a start as the car jerked to a halt. Cruel anxiety gripped her as she saw Natalya staring straight ahead: exactly like 'Emma' did when she betrayed her. "Natalya? Natalya what's going on? Why have we stopped?"  
  
Her companion gave no reply; instead she flickered the headlights on and off. There was a pause, then two quick flashes of light responded. Natalya smiled. "They're here."  
  
"Who's here?" Kate demanded. When Natalya didn't answer, she followed her gaze - and when her eyes came accustomed to the gloom - she spotted another car. A man got out of the diver's side and she recognised him instantly as her uncle. Then the back door opened and she froze.  
  
Standing by the car was a woman she remembered from some forgotten dream. Despite the years, she had aged gracefully - hardly showing the decade from when Kate last saw her. It was almost as if she was looking at a vision of her future self. In a daze, Kate got out the car and meandered closer. The woman's face was lit up with a joyful smile despite the tears. "Mom?" Kate managed numbly.  
  
The woman nodded and Kate rushed over to be swept into a tight embrace. They stood there holding each other, as if afraid that if they let go then the other would disappear. So many emotions ran through them that everything became a jumble, laughing and crying as they shared their first contact in ten years.  
  
Sark leaned against the vehicle, fondly watching the reunion of his sister and niece. And looking at them he knew his sister was right: a part of Liam O'Rourke still existed. Natalya strode over, her eyes flickering worriedly around. "Sir, we should go," She stated nervously.  
  
He sighed, not wanting to break the moment, but knew he had to. "Okay, Syd, Kate. We've got to-" The last of his words were cut off by a bang. An ear- splitting scream replaced the night's stillness and it took Kate a moment to realise that it had erupted from her throat. She clung desperately to her mother as she stared horrified at Natalya.  
  
The maid's eyes and mouth were wide in a mixture of pain and shock. Slowly, her gaze travelled downwards to where her hand clasped her chest, failing to stop the scarlet liquid that seeped between her fingers. She looked wildly at the others and then - as if in slow motion - fell lifelessly to the ground. Startled, Sark's alertness kicked in and he rushed to protect his family. Then suddenly the whole forlorn clearing was flooded with blinding white light.  
  
A/N: What do you think? Go on, hit that button now! 


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